


Into The Anomaly

by Deliahscrush2003



Category: The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan
Genre: Alliances, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon Compliant, Earth, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Everybody Returns, Fix-It, Fluff and Humor, Multi, Mutual Pining, Old Friends, Peace, Post-Season/Series 06 AU, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Season/Series 07 Speculation, Second Chances, Slow Burn, The 100 (TV) Season 1, The 100 (TV) Season 6, The Anomaly - Freeform, The Delinquients, Time Travel, Trauma, War, the dropship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:34:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 131,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24422110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deliahscrush2003/pseuds/Deliahscrush2003
Summary: The Season 7 AU that Never Happened But Would Have Been A Hundred Fucking Percent Better Than The Shit Show Jason Came Up With.-The Time Travel Fix It where the Anomaly comes and sends their minds back over a hundred years into the past.-What would happen if the remnants of the Hundred woke up on the day they first landed on Earth with memories of the past that nobody except the Hundred (including some honorary friends) remembers? What happens if the day doesn't go quite the way they remembered? What if they are given a second chance to do better by taking the future into their hands?We all know what Monty Green would think of that....don't we?
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin, Emori/John Murphy (The 100), Minor or Background Relationship(s), Monty Green/Harper McIntyre, Octavia Blake/Lincoln
Comments: 265
Kudos: 472





	1. Clarke Griffin: Second Chances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “ _Clarke?_ Clarke Griffin? Is that you?!” an achingly familiar voice whispered excitedly from her right.
> 
> _Oh, I think I know what’s happening now._
> 
> __
> 
> Her mind compartmentalized a thousand different theories into one at the sound of _that_ voice. With that cheerful tone that, last she heard, was cursing her name from Polis to Azgeda. Who played over and over in her head in the five years she spent with Madi, his letter to his best friend foretelling mankind’s ruination of what was left of the Earth. Whose goggles, that once sat in the dashboard of a buggie that was no more than a memory, now sat on his head. 
> 
> __
> 
> As she met his playful brown eyes, she finally made peace with the fact that she was _inexplicably_ **dead**.
> 
> __
> 
> “Long time no see, Clarke,” grinned Jasper Jordan from where he was buckled into a dropship seat beside her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my new 100 fic. This has been in the designs for over a year, even before season 6 came out. It started as a dream and I decided to slip it into the season 6 timeline when the Anomaly was mentioned and has limited information released on it. As a fan of fix it's (especially time travel fix its), I decided that the plot I had already figured for the fic was perfect for this!
> 
> So I hope you enjoy x

Everything hurt. 

This was nothing new. Clarke Griffin felt as if she had been hurting for hundreds of years and technically, she had. 

She wandered what it was this time as her mind struggled to wake from unconsciousness. As far as she could tell, her whole body ached. Again, nothing new. Her neck especially. Similar to the inflamed sting after getting a needle jammed into your jugular. 

Clarke was familiar with this feeling. And she was _not_ happy to be feeling it again. 

_Open your goddamn eyes, Clarke. I’m going to be pissed if someone has managed to possess you again._

She wasn’t quite there yet. Her eyelids felt like glue and wouldn’t budge. 

But she was aware of sounds. Loud sounds, alike to that of a station in space long gone. Machine buzzing…..like you would hear on the Ark. Which made no sense because the last thing she remembered, she was on Sanctum after coming back from the Eligius ship with Madi and – 

_Don’t think about that now. Think about opening your eyes._

__

She could hear people mumbling, talking quietly amongst each other and the rattling of metal. Somebody’s voice was talking over a loud speaker but she couldn’t make it out. 

__

It sounded too **_impossibly_** familiar to actually be the person she was thinking of. 

__

Finally, her eyes opened, just a miniscule. And it was dark. She blinked the sleep out of her eyes before squinting around her. _What the hell?!_

__

“ _Clarke?_ Clarke Griffin? Is that you?!” an achingly familiar voice whispered excitedly from her right. 

__

_Oh, I think I know what’s happening now._

__

Her mind compartmentalized a thousand different theories into one at the sound of _that_ voice. With that cheerful tone that, last she heard, was cursing her name from Polis to Azgeda. Who played over and over in her head in the five years she spent with Madi, his letter to his best friend foretelling mankind’s ruination of what was left of the Earth. Whose goggles, that once sat in the dashboard of a buggie that was no more than a memory, now sat on his head. 

__

As she met his playful brown eyes, she finally made peace with the fact that she was _inexplicably_ **dead**. 

__

“Long time no see, Clarke,” grinned Jasper Jordan from where he was buckled into a dropship seat beside her. 

__

\- 

__

“ _Clarke_. Hey, Clarke! This is great, right? Just like old times. Except, for, well, the _others_.” 

__

Clarke had been trying to think on when she could have possibly _managed_ to die after getting back to Sanctum barely an hour after defeating the Primes but she was drawing short on viable answers. It’s not like she would have gone anywhere but to bed after the hell Josephine put her through. Maybe the infirmary, to check Madi for injuries. Everyone else seemed to be fine, Bellamy didn’t seem to have any wounds when she saw him earlier. Speaking of, how the **_hell_** did she die if Bellamy Blake was around? 

__

After Bellamy resuscitated her and she got some rest, she talked to Octavia, intending to find out all the brunette knew about the Children of Gabriel and the man himself. Instead, _per usual_ , the younger Blake decided to have it _her_ way and point out how her brother ‘ _literally told death to shove it_ ’. Clarke hadn’t had the chance to fully examine what that meant. Sure, she could reason it away as them being best friends and partners for years but she knew the truth deep down. And she knew that if she were him, she wouldn’t’ve let death stop her from bringing him back. She wondered what he would think about this situation. How would he reason it? 

__

“Like don’t get me wrong – I’m _super_ confused but this is the kind of weird where you should probably embrace it without asking too many questions. Like, _why_ question it?” 

__

And Jasper. _God_ , how was _that_ possible? If anything, she was more likely to believe him to be a mind trick. That she never escaped Josephine and this was just the Prime’s way of letting her know that she had her believing she was free. Despite the bile rising in her throat at the very idea she was still trapped in her head, she managed to enjoy the sight of her old friend before her. She didn’t get to see him before but seeing him now, as he had been before the Mountain, it was nice. It reminded her of simpler times, before the Ark came down or before the Grounders attacked. When it was just her and her Delinquents. 

__

“Hey, Jasper?” Clarke smiled – barely - interrupting the rambling she remembered so fondly of, “Why are we here? Are we dead?” 

__

Jasper gaped at her before closing his jaw, “Hold on a minute. You think we’re _dead?_ ” 

__

Clarke frowned, “Of course. How else could I explain this? I swear to hell, if this is one of Josephine’s mind tricks, I’m going to just pull the plug on myself!” 

__

“Wo ho ho,” Jasper chuckled, leaning back in his seat which looked suspiciously like the ones the 100 pulled from the dropship and recycled for their own comfort, “Look Clarke, I don’t know who the hell Josephine is or what happened after I died but rest assured we’re alive right now. I’ve pinched myself so many times and went through everything I know and learned. But one thing doesn’t make sense. If this was Heaven, Hell or, in your case, , _mind tricks_ , than why the hell are they here?!" 

__

Clarke turned to where he was pointing and almost passed out again. He was pointing at someone over the age of 20. If this was a memory drawn from when the 100 first landed, than the only person over 20 on this ship would have been Bellamy Blake. They were surrounded by about 100 other people and over half of them were at least well into their 30s. And none of them was Bellamy Blake. 

__

_Don’t sound so disappointed. You don’t know where you are and if it turns out you’ve bit it, you don’t want him to show up anytime soon._

__

Her throat closed up as she struggled to swallow the anxiety and the fear she felt at the possibility that she **was** dead and that she had left Bellamy and Madi behind, thickening into a choke hold as if to say _that’s not it, you liar_. She ignored the burning of built up sobs and focused on her surroundings, trying to pick up more information so she could get a better understanding of the situation. 

__

Another thing, she noticed was different this time was that Wells was not beside her and instead Jasper was in his place. And seemed to recall everything they knew of their time on the ground _including_ his death. 

__

“Do you think that - ?” 

__

“I think so.” 

__

“So that means - ?” 

__

“The big man upstairs gave us another chance? Yep.” 

__

Clarke let out a disbelieving laugh, “That _can’t_ be it. No, there _has_ to be a _logical_ explanation as to how me and you – who I remind you, **_died_** – are here right now. I’m still on the fence of it being a mind trick.” 

__

“Where’s your sense of faith, Clarke? Look I get it. I woke up, saw you and I _admit_ to wanting to wring your neck to see if you were really here. But then I thought. _Hold up, Jordan! Take things slow. Clarke’s the only one who you **actually** recognize. Wait ‘til **after** you get your answers_. But then I realized, _hey this looks familiar as hell and, **wow** , I’m not dead_. Nor does it look like we’re bathing in radiation. So than I came to the conclusion that, _hey something weird has **definently** happened_, but we are defiently on an Ark dropship about to go somewhere and where else are we to go but down? Which means…..” 

__

He turned to Clarke, gesturing theatrically for her to draw the conclusion, “We’re going to Earth.” 

__

“100 points to Griffin,” Jasper clapped, laughing to himself at the little pun he made. He stopped when he noticed her frown deepen, “What’s wrong? Earth is a good thing. You know, If you ignore the grounders, the Mountain Men, the radiation and whatever the hell happened when I was gone.” 

__

The blonde felt their stomach drop. She was going to throw up.. 

__

Clarke started pulling against the belts violently, whispering harshly, “We need to leave. **RIGHT NOW**.” 

__

The boy next to her laughed like she said a funny joke. 

__

“ _Leave?_ Where are we supposed to go? Catch a shooting star to Mars or something? There’s nothing out there but space until we get back down to the ground. What’s wrong with you?” 

__

“Jasper, you don’t understand but we **_need_** to leave.” 

__

“Why? What’s happening?” 

__

Clarke gritted her teeth in frustration. 

__

_How the hell did Finn and those two boys get their belts off last time?_

__

“Talk to me, Griffin. What’s up with the suicide mission all of a sudden?” 

__

She growled, throwing herself back into her seat in fustration. The person behind her mumbled for her to stop fidgeting while another one cautioned her that she was going to break her seat if she didn’t sit still. 

__

_God, they speak to me as if I’m a child._

__

“ **CLARKE**.” 

__

“ _Ow!_ ” she winced, jerking her head to the side and rubbing at her sensitive ear as she shot an annoyed look at Jasper, “ **WHAT?** ” 

__

“What the **_hell_** do you think you’re doing?! We’re dropping soon and you know what a rough landing does from the first time around.” 

__

“Jasper, there is _no more_ Earth. It’s a long story but basically after you died, the radiation killed the Earth and after five years of waiting for the air to become safe to breathe, there was only one place left untouched. I can’t go into detail right now but somehow we – well not _we_ but **people** – screwed that place up royally and it got to the point where we had to blow it up. Than we all got into a space craft and left Earth.” 

__

There was silence for a while, a silence Clarke used to study the belt used to lock her into her seat until Jasper started cackling quietly beside her. She didn’t find this surprising. 

__

_Of course, he would find us destroying the Earth amusing. It’s what he had basically been telling us since we left the Mountain._

__

_He had quietened down and now looked at her with a humorless smile._

____

“You’re telling me that you had a place you could _**actually**_ live after the radiation razed the planet and you **still** managed to ruin it?” 

____

Clarke shot him an annoyed look, “In my defense, it wasn’t _my_ fault this time.” 

____

“I’m impressed. Did we _finally_ repress those genocidal urges? Wish _Maya_ could have lived to see that.” 

____

“ _Alright_ , listen here, Jasper Jordan!” she hissed, pulling him by his shirt collar, “I _may_ have **tolerated** your shitty attitude in the past but whatever is happening now, know that my tolerance is **_long gone_**. I never wanted to hurt you or Maya. Believe me when I wish we had found a way to get her out – to get them _all_ out. But I didn’t have the luxury of time. Raven was almost dead. My mother had a drill in her stomach. Cage had our people in chains and was threatening each and every one of them with a gun _including you_. We all had a choice. I made one that meant our people’s survival. And I will continue to live with that for the rest of my days. Now, do you want to die in space or die in a wasteland?” 

____

Jasper’s jaw tensed but he never once blinked the whole time she was talking, and his smile stayed where it was. He gently pried his collar from her hands and straightened it, clearing his throat. 

____

“That was a nice speech. _Love_ the moxie, that’s a new one. Haven’t seen _that_ since we first landed. But if you’re done I should probably draw your attention to three things,” he told her as he smiled mischievously, holding three of his fingers up in front of them as if he was going to teach a child how to count, “One, we are obviously younger than we were before we woke up. I mean, I wasn’t that much older, but I had a nice-looking goatee and my head was shaved. My hair has grown back and if you take a look at our clothes, they’re the same ones issued to us by the Sky Box facilitators before they loaded us on board the dropship.” 

____

“Two, if you look around, you will recognize at least one person from the Ark that should either be dead or just straight up shouldn’t be here right now.” 

____

“And three, as we have been speaking, _Chancellor Jaha_ has just recited the Traveler’s Ode and has just told us he will see us _all on the ground_.” 

____

Clarke’s heart felt like it stopped beating. As she looked around, at herself – she couldn’t ignore the fact that every word he spoke was true. And it shouldn’t be. It defied all logic. Then again, she had see things that rivaled the level of weirdness this situation was exhibiting. 

____

Her breathe grew heavier and her voice got lower, as if her speaking louder would put a crack in the illusion. 

____

“Say it’s true and we’ve somehow……” 

____

“…..gotten sent back in time.” 

____

“Then everything we’ve lived through…..” 

____

“…..we can _avoid_ it, Clarke. Every bad thing that you’ve done, that everyone has lived through _never has to happen_.” 

____

Clarke’s bottom lip wavered and she already felt the tears start to well up in her eyes as she asked hesitantly, more to herself than the boy next to her. 

____

“We can _all_ survive this time?” 

____

“Clarke,” Jasper whispered, “We all get to **live** this time.” 

____

No sooner had he spoken, they felt themselves drop into space. 

____

\- 

____

Clarke held her breathe as her stomach leapt into her throat, the pressure of them dropping making her fingers tighten on the belts across her chest. 

____

“ _Shit_ , forgot about that feeling but _damn_ is it good to be alive again!” Jasper whooped and cackled, earning a few glares from the people around them. He ignored them all, throwing his head back as if **relishing** in the feeling of falling. 

____

She didn’t know how he was laughing when she felt like she might just throw up if she were to open her mouth. How she didn’t throw up the first time was beyond her, although she had a sneaking suspicion it was because she was too busy being mad at Wells and hoping not to die to notice. 

____

_Wait. Wells._

____

_He’s alive._

____

_Which means they are **all** alive. _

____

_All of them._

____

_Oh, this was going to be difficult but one thing was for sure._

____

“Jasper, as soon as we get to the ground we need to get the 100 and leave.” 

____

Jasper swung his head towards her, his laughter cut off by her surprising words. 

____

“ _What?_ I couldn’t hear you properly, but I could have **_sworn_** you just suggested we _leave_?” 

____

“Your hearing is fine. Listen, I realized that while the adults are with us this time, we are _still_ prisoners to them,” Clarke said, jerking at the restraints to prove her point, “If you look around, you will notice that everyone else aren’t strapped in with the same belts as us.” 

____

Jasper cursed under his breathe as he realized what she was getting at, “You don’t mean - ?" 

____

Clarke felt her lips curl despite her stomach feeling like it was being tossed around inside her, “Bellamy might have been a dick at first but he was a _smart_ dick. If we hadn’t been in the Mountain, the _first_ thing the Ark would have done was restructure itself on the ground so that it would be no different then if we were still in space. We are _expandable_ , and while they care enough to maintain the human race, they don’t give a damn about our feelings or if a few of us lose our lives if it means the rest of them survive.” 

____

_Ironic how it continued to be like that long after most of us died._

____

“So, what do you suggest we do? Ditch the adults?” 

____

“The adults will be fine whether or not we stay. Us, on the other hand, will not.” 

____

“No offense, Clarke, but we almost **died** on our own the first time. Like, me especially. Grounder. Spear. Bait. Traumatized Jasper, ring any bells?” 

____

“That was the _first_ time. This time we know the land. The people. And, we came down with supplies and know where to get more.” 

____

“But our parents – “ 

____

“We’ll come back for yours. And Monty’s. We’ll get Miller’s dad to help us out. Maybe even be able to convince Sinclair and Jackson to come with us.” 

____

“Fuck, Clarke, we don’t even know if all of our friends are on this ship! Or if any of the other ships will make it! And even if they _did_ make it out alive, what happens if we’re the only ones who remember the past – the future or _whatever_? How the fuck are we going to get any of them to come with us?!” 

____

“Hey!” Clarke whispered, gripping his arm from where it rested beside hers, “Why the hell would we be here if our friends weren’t brought back? And if all of them aren’t here, we’ll take who we can and wait for the rest of them to show up. If they don’t remember, that’s fine. We’ll just have to lead them in the right direction, but it wouldn’t make sense to have only us remember what happened and leave everyone else clueless.” 

____

“Right,” Jasper breathed, settling back in his chair, “Well then, what’s the plan, princess?” 

____

Clarke flinched at the old nickname. 

____

_Shit, you also forgot about **him.**_

____

“Well, Clarke? You’re the one with the big shot plans. **Spill**.” 

____

She shook her head clear of any unnecessary thoughts and nodded to herself, “Okay, you remember the first time there was a ton of chaos when we first walked out of the drop ship?” 

____

“How could I forget?” 

____

Clarke smiled, “Well it’s going to be kind of like that except the guards and the people from Alpha will want to get everything under control as soon as possible. We’re going to use that chaos to get the kids and get out but we need to be quick.” 

____

The sound of metal rattling caused them both to pause as the dropship shook harshly, gritting their teeth at the loud crashing sound. 

____

“Alright, better tell me this now Clarke, because if I didn’t know better, that was the sound of us piercing through the atmosphere.” 

____

Clarke sighed and started talking quickly, knowing that they were going to be on the ground soon. 

____

“Okay, as soon as we land, the adults are going to want to check things out first. Two things could happen. First, the adults leave us trapped in the chairs, leave to look around and come back later once they get orders from Alpha or a higher authority. If they do this, we use the metal of the chairs to cut through the belts before checking to see how many kids are in here. We get them out, steal some stuff and sneak out before they come back in. If we’re lucky, we’ll have about 5 minutes to spare before they alert everyone else and lock down the area. In those five minutes we should split up, get the others and get the hell out of dodge.” 

____

Jasper nodded, “Sounds impossible. What’s the second thing?” 

____

“The adults let us out, still go out first in which we will have less time trying to get out of the damn seats and more time stealing shit and getting to the others.” 

____

“It’s a wide area to cover,” he pointed out, already working on his seatbelt, “There’s 100 of us, 102 counting Raven and Bellamy. How are we supposed to find them all?” 

____

She followed his lead, dragging her belt up and down the sharp metal, “It’s likely we won’t be able to find them all in one go. But in order to cover the area, we’re splitting up. Remember how it was when we first got there? They were all in groups, friends huddled near friends, people they met in lock up. You and Monty stuck together, Murphy had his tribe of assholes, Bellamy stuck with his sister and everyone else stuck with Bellamy.” 

____

“Okay, so who am I getting saddled with? Please, don’t let it be Murphy.” 

____

Clarke rolled her eyes and gripped the belt harder, “I should for your shitty attitude.” 

____

Jasper let out a mock gasp, “You _wouldn’t_.” 

____

“Stick with finding Monty. I know your eager to see him again. But if you happen to see Harper, Fox, Wells, Atom, Raven or Finn, try and drag them along with you.” 

____

Jasper let out a low whistle, lips curling up in amusement as he drawled, “Is Griffin trying to avoid a _certain_ **Spacewalker?** ” 

____

Clarke flinched slightly at that, gritting her teeth to keep from taking the bait he was dangling in front of her, “I’m being _smart_. Finn will go to help you out and Raven will go with Finn because she loves him. Otherwise she would stay with the adults.” 

____

“What about Wells?” the dark-haired boy hummed playfully from beside her, a sound at odds with the situation they were in, “Why are you shoving your best friend off to me?” 

____

“Because he will try to make me stay. If you bump into him instead, you can just say I’m meeting up with you and I told you to bring him. He’ll go along with it.” 

____

There was only a few tethers left of the belt to go when the roof of the drop ship made the popping sound of the metal roofing being ripped off as it dropped through the atmosphere and the thrusters were deployed to steady the landing. 

____

“I hope Finn didn’t manage to get out of his seatbelt this time,” Jasper muttered, using the shaking of the ship to cut through the last of his belt. Clarke put an arm over his chest to protect him while he worked on the last of hers. 

____

“So, who are you rounding up?” he asked as he leaned back with an arm put out in front of her. 

____

“I’m going to search for Miller first and send him to find Bellamy and Octavia. Then I’m getting Roma, Monroe and Murphy and sending them off to meet Miller who will take them to you. I’m then going to find _C_ \- Charlotte and she’s going to help me carry any supplies I find.” 

____

She chokes up at the little girl’s name and Jasper stills, turning his head slightly. 

____

“ _Clarke_ – “ 

____

“Like you said. This is our chance to make up for our mistakes and to live. To that, we can’t hold on to the past.” 

____

Jasper didn't say anything as the popping sound got louder and the shaking grew more aggressive to point that they were both nearly thrown from their chairs. 

____

“I understand.” 

____

A massive thud rocked the dropship and then it went silent. Jasper looked up at the roof of the dropship and turned to Clarke in a way that could only be described as nostalgic. She remembered and her lips quirked up into a dry smile. 

____

“No machine hum.” 

____

“That’s _new_.” 

____

\- 

____

It turned out the adults went with option one which made them cutting through their seat belts on their way down not only **very** _dangerous_ but also _unnecessary_. 

____

“Alright, we need to go out and look around. Prisoners from Lockup are required to stay in the drop ship until further orders are given. Do **_not_** attempt to leave or you will be restrained and **punished** ,” warned a guardsman who shot looks of suspicion at what seemed like every person under the age 20. 

____

Mutters erupted from below where Clarke and Jasper stood on the second level and they heard someone yell something along the lines of ‘ _what are you going to do? **Float us?**_ ’ which made them both smile wistfully. 

____

The guardsman continued on as if he didn’t hear the comment, “Two guardsman will be left here to watch you, so don’t try anything.” 

____

Jasper shot Clarke a look of panic but the blonde girl was observing the two men taking their places at the entrance. One was shorter than the other and by the way he was leaning he seemed to favor his right leg and probably suffered some bruising from the landing around his side. The other was taller and gripped his baton in his hand tightly, already looking to beat up on any kid that even _breathed_ near him. A gun was holstered by his side but he didn’t even have his hand anywhere near it meaning that he didn’t think he was going to need it. 

____

The guardsman in charge left with the rest of the adults, leaving the door open. 

____

_Bad move on their part. They won’t be able to tell if we leave or not. The sound of it opening and closing could have acted as an alarm of sorts._

____

Jasper leaned against the railing and sighed hopelessly, “Well we’re _screwed_. What’s the plan now?” 

____

Clarke kept her voice low as she replied, “Same plan.” 

____

He whipped his head towards her in surprise and tsked, “Clarke, there’s two **_armed_** guards between us and our ‘ _plan_ ’. Pray tell, how do you expect us to get past them?” 

____

She drew him close and subtly pointed out everything she observed before giving him his orders. She could tell from his face that he thought this plan was not going to succeed and she didn’t blame him. Jasper never was a fighter. Strong and fierce, yes. But at this heart, Jasper was gentle and didn’t want to fight. He sought a joke or a distraction to solve a problem. Clarke, well, she never had the luxury of such a tactic. Diplomacy or Violence, two opposing ideals but her ever present approaches to a problem. This was no different. 

____

She led Jasper down to the first level and tried to single out any faces. She recognized Bree, Jessica and Drew and nodded at Jasper to head over to them and spread the word. She saw a taller boy with sandy blonde hair and recognized him as one of the boys who used to go hunting with Bellamy. His name, Bek Yaxley, was listed as one of the five that died during the bone marrow harvesting in the Mountain. She was told he was one of the first to die after he assaulted their captors, specifically those who had dragged his girlfriends out of the room to be _tested_. 

____

The said girlfriend, Aslynn, was standing by his side, her eyes darting from the two guardsman to the open door. Clarke changed direction, making her way over to them. The girl saw her coming and stiffened as recognition lit up in her hazel green eyes, the boy stepping forward, acting as her shield. 

____

Clarke ignored the way that stance sang to some part of her, the part where Clarke was once that girl behind a boy. Instead of golden hair though, it was a soft brown that curled around his ears and instead of pale skin, it was golden with constellations of light freckles… 

____

_Get it together, Clarke. Now is **not** the time to lose your head like that._

____

Clarke jerked her head back to the girl, ignoring her protector and leaned in as close as possible, lowering her voice to a whisper. 

____

" _We're leaving. Be prepared_." 

____

She didn’t wait to see if the girl understood or if she was going to do as she asked. She turned on her heel and walked over to the guards. She heard some of the kids behind her, whispering about what she was doing and what she planning. Jasper must have gotten to some people because they quickly shut up by the time she made it over to the two men. 

____

The shorter one considered her warily but the taller one didn’t take his eyes off the mass behind her. 

____

“Excuse me?” 

____

The shorter one shot a look at his companion, unsure if he should respond or not. His companion just stared on, but the tick in his jaw told Clarke he heard her just fine. 

____

“I was wondering if you could –“ 

____

**WHACK!**

____

Clarke’s head jerked violently to the side as the baton slammed against her cheek. To Clarke’s credit, she didn’t falter in her stance. But she couldn’t help the shaky hand that came to hover her bruised cheek or the gaping look on her face. She planned on pissing them off, _sure_ , but she didn’t expect a full-blown strike to the face before she could even talk! 

____

She felt some fluid build up in her mouth and spat it onto the floor, uncaring of the blood dribbling from her lips or how it stained her teeth. 

____

“He _shouldn’t_ have done that,” she heard Jasper mutter from somewhere behind her. 

____

Clarke sighed before meeting the guards eyes with a slight smirk, “My name is Clarke Griffin.” 

____

The guard’s eyes widened comically at her last name and that was all she needed. She lunged at him, gripping his shoulders and sending a knee to his groin. He keeled over to the side and she used his shoulders as a momentum to send a kick to the other one who approached her from behind, her boot sinking into his side. He grunted in pain but managed to grip her ankles, locking her leg long enough for his companion to recover and to wrap an arm around her torso. 

____

“Wrong move, dude,” Jasper jeered from the crowd gathered, all waiting to see if this slip of a girl - the _princess_ they remembered who could barely throw a punch - could really take on two guardsman and come out victorious. Clarke bet all she had that Jasper somehow talked her up to them, reminded them all that she used to lead them, used to take care of them and nurse them back to health or injury. That she had **killed** for them.Those that knew Jasper best were probably wondering if he might have smoked something before coming aboard the drop ship. That was, of course, if they didn't remember what happened in their past lives. 

____

Clarke was dragged backwards by the one behind her, giving her the opportunity to use her leg to boost a kick from the foot dragging on the ground. She met her target, his hands springing to his mouth where she was sure a bloody lip had split open. With both her feet free, she bent at the knees and hefted the guard behind her over her head, his arms letting go in shock. She put one foot on his throat and bent to pull the gun from his holster and the baton from where it was left on the ground. 

____

“Hey Jasp, hold this for me?” Clarke called to the boy, throwing the baton to him before turning back towards the guard, gun in hand. The one with the bloody lip sneered and tried to make it to his feet despite the pain he was feeling in his ribs and face. He moved, gun in hand. 

____

_Smart this one. He has a better weapon and if he were to shoot it, the others would come back to see what the gunshot was about._

____

Clarke stilled. She watched him as he finally managed to stand upright, taking notice of the way the gun shook in his hand and how the safety was still on. 

____

_Smart, but not **too** smart. He won’t shoot a kid even after seeing me fight._

____

“Put your gun down. **Right. Now** ,” he grounded out, the blood muffling his words. 

____

Clarke glanced at Jasper and gave him a slight nod. Jasper frowned. 

____

_Oh well, if he doesn’t know now he’ll find out soon._

____

She slowly placed the gun on the floor, sending it over to him before he could ask. He was so shocked by the movement that he took his eyes off her long enough that he wasn’t prepared when snatched the gun right out of his and picked the one of the ground, shoving one of them into the waistband of her trousers and holding the other one up to his face threateningly. 

____

“I have a message for the Council and for the Chancellor. _**Don’t** come looking for us_.” 

____

She gestured for Jasper to give her the baton and felt only a twinge of guilt when she used the butt of it to knock both guardsmen out. She spent a few second to catch her breathe, tucking long strands of blonde hair behind her ear. 

____

“We’re getting off to a _great_ start on the whole ‘ _not repeating mistakes, we’re good now_ ’,” Jasper muttered as he came up beside her, his hands flopping to his side dramatically. 

____

Clarke blew another piece of hair out of her face before moving past him to check the supplies, “Not repeating mistakes, we’re good now’ _officially_ starts now.” 

____

\- 

____

“Are we ready to go?” 

____

She looked around at them all and waited until they were all looking forward. 

____

“Okay, this is how it’s going to go down. Jasper will lead you to where we are going. We go out in groups of four. There’s about 20 of us here. Go on my count.” 

____

Clarke peered around the door and looked both ways, trying to get a sense of where they were. She knew that if this was the same as before, Jaha would have waited until they were directly over North America. The trees and the sky supported this. A few of the kids thought the adults went right so that means they would go left. From that point they would find a higher vantage point and she and Jasper would try to find any significant landmarks. 

____

“First group, go.” 

____

She watched as Jasper took Bree, Jessica and Drew out and down to the left where the land seemed to steep. She counted to five before letting the second group go. As she got to the fifth group, she heard the sounds of people in the distance. The adults were coming back. 

____

She turned to the last three, Bek, Aslynn and Kath. 

____

“Run. _Now_.” 

____

Clarke and her group raced around the side of the dropship and rolled down so that the steep acted as cover. She gestured for the others to follow where Jasper was taking the others while she stayed to observe the group of adults returning. She noticed they were mostly guardsman that came back and came to the assumption they must have found the rest of the Ark. 

____

_These guys must be for to take the kids back_. 

____

A body landed next to hers and she jumped before she noticed it was just Jasper. 

____

“What are you doing? What happened to the _run like hell_ part of the plan?” 

____

Clarke peeked over the slope to see the guardsman yelling out orders, four of the man going in and coming out with their unconscious comrades. She couldn’t see before but she was pretty sure the one in charge was – 

____

“Damn, is that _Sargent Miller_? He looks great.” 

____

Clarke raised an eyebrow at that and watched as the older man gestured for them to go back the way they came. That’s when she realized that if they were going to get their people, she would first need to find out where they were. 

____

“Alright, you remember most of the landmarks right?” 

____

“Contrary to popular belief, Clarke, I’m _not_ useless.” 

____

“ _That’s not what I_ –“ 

____

“ **Yes** , I know where they are.” 

____

“Do you remember an underground bunker? Between the dropship and the ravine?” 

____

Jasper snorted, cracking a small grin, “Ah yeh, wasn’t that where you and Finn used to – “ 

____

“Yes, good. You know it. Take the kids there and wait for me.” 

____

She went to follow the retreating adults before she was stopped. Clarke looked at the hand on her arm and back at Jasper. 

____

“Wait,” he said, looking back at the kids before whispering, “What are you going to do?” 

____

The blonde girl gave him a knowing look. She patted his hand in reassurance as she leaned forward to whisper determinedly. 

____

“I’m going to get our friends back. Be safe. Don’t die. And if we do, May we meet again.” 

____

She shook his hand off and started after the adults, jogging into the forest behind them and out of sight. 

____

Jasper huffed before turning back to the others. Their faces stared at him in a mix of fear and determination. He realized that he needed to lead now, like Clarke and Bellamy did when they first landed. He wasn’t that weak, coward of a boy anymore. He survived a spear through his _goddamn **chest**!_ He fought Grounders, the Mountain Men and a horde of ALIE possessed Arkanians. Earth didn’t manage to kill him last time. He died on his own terms. He didn't plan to change that. Except this time, he planned on sticking around long enough to keep the human race's heads out of their asses. 

____

_And to make sure that Maya had a second chance. A chance to finally live on the ground._

____

“You heard the princess, follow me if you want to survive.”

____


	2. John Murphy: Nostalgia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John Murphy knew what hell felt like.
> 
> A never-ending burn, the flames of punishment engulfing your already blistering soul.
> 
> Basically, it _fucking **hurt**_.
> 
> After his miraculous resurrection in the aftermath of his fight with Bellamy in Sanctum, he had no doubt he’d end up back there sooner or later.
> 
> What he didn’t expect was for his hell to look like the inside of a fucking _dropship_.
> 
> It made sense, though. Hell, before the bombs, was infamous for its mindfucks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was both amazed and so deeply heartened by the amount of comments and kudos this fic got after I uploaded the first chapter! I just want to thank you all so much and dedicate this chapter to each and every single one of you who commented such kind and inspiring things. I just want you to know that I will keep going for this, and it's because of your feedback and praise that I'm doing so!

John Murphy knew what hell felt like. 

A never-ending burn, the flames of punishment engulfing your already blistering soul. 

Basically, it _fucking **hurt**_. 

After his miraculous resurrection in the aftermath of his fight with Bellamy in Sanctum, he had no doubt he’d end up back there sooner or later. 

What he didn’t expect was for his hell to look like the inside of a fucking _dropship_. 

It made sense, though. Hell, before the bombs, was infamous for its mindfucks. 

When he truly thought about it, the moment the dropship landed on the ground was the moment Murphy _truly_ became a criminal. In the Skybox, his crimes were just like everyone elses; fits of anger and passion that came from living in a place where every action; good or bad; could lead to you being floated. True, setting fire to someone’s place wasn’t _exactly_ your run of the mill theft. In his defense, he made sure no one was actually _in_ the room before he lit the match and burned it all to hell. He was twelve, angry at the system that killed his father and sent his mother on a bender that eventually led to him being orphaned. 

Murphy liked to think he had improved since his first moments on Earth. He regretted killing Myles and Connor. They were just kids following a leader. That leader just happened to point him out as a murderer without getting _all the fucking facts first_. He figured if he could forgive Bellamy for kicking out the box under his feet, he could forgive the two boys for putting the rope around his neck. Nobody’s perfect. Shooting Raven was also a crime that he had a lot of guilt towards. Although he never meant to shoot her specifically, he did aim and pull the trigger knowing it would end up in someone. And even though he had apologized and she had forgiven him, he felt that guilt every time he looked at the young mechanic. Even worse now that he considered her one of his closest friends. He wondered what she would say if she was here right now. 

Probably something along the lines of ‘ _ **isn’t hell your birthplace, roach?’**_

_Good ole’ Raven. I’m gonna miss her._

He thought about the last time he saw her. It was just after she came back with Clarke and the rest of their people on Eligius. After she gave him that grin that said ‘I’m still kicking’ and swept him and Emori into a big hug. 

He realized, with a frown, that he couldn’t remember the last thing he was supposed to have remembered, besides people shouting as a fiery green glow sped towards them, only half an hour after Bellamy, Octavia and Echo left with that Gabriel guy. 

That brings about the question of _how the fuck did he **die?**_

If Bellamy thought that they were in danger, not even _death_ could stop him. Just ask Clarke Griffin. Speaking of, Murphy would be stupid if he didn’t admit that even if Bellamy _wasn’t_ around, Clarke wouldn’t let death stop her from saving everyone either. She **_was_** Wanheda after all, no matter how much she tried to hide it. 

Now that he’s dead, and had time to re-evaluate his – _ugh feelings_ \- he figured he should give a fellow roach the benefit of the doubt. Murphy spat her crimes in her face, sneered at her when Raven put her down. But he wasn't an idiot. He remembers all her crimes as clearly as he remembers his. 

Burning three hundred grounder warriors alive in the ring of fire. Closing the dropship door on Bellamy and Finn. He recounted it once to her when they came across each other in an Eligius hallway before going down to Sanctum. The memory escaped him at the time, but he remembered during the early days after Mount Weather when they were gathered around a table having a drink and Miller was whispering to Bellamy about how Clarke would have gone out and dragged him and Finn into the dropship herself if Miller hadn’t made her close it to protect the others. 

_“She waited until the last possible second for you.” Bellamy had taken one last swig of moonshine before walking back into the crashed station after that._

There was also the massacre in Mount Weather that gave her the moniker of Wanheda. He remembered Jasper **_loved_** to pipe up about that little tidbit every now and than during the days preparing for the radiation. Both he, and the previously wide-eyed worshipper of the Rebel King and Princess, also forgot to remember how the Mountain Men had their people chained to fucking walls and had already put holes in Raven’s already broken leg and had Clarke’s mum out on the table with a drill in her stomach. How Clarke wasn’t the only one to pull that lever. Funny how Bellamy didn’t get as much shit from it. 

Even her chaining him and Emori to the ladder of the spaceship in Becca’s lab. He still held a bit of anger over that one. Remembering how he had to fucking **beg** her not to test Emori made him want to kill something. How helpless he felt. That despair was only eleviated slightly when Clarke volunteered to test herself instead, before Emori came up with another solution. Still, the Princess gets some points for being willing to put her life on the line instead of the love of his life. Murphy sometimes thinks that maybe it was his begging. That she decided not to do it because she cared about whether it hurt him or not. 

Everything that happened, the Battle of Eden, leaving Bellamy to die in the fighting pits was the icing on the top of the shit he held against her during their time in Sanctum. But then he proposed to Emori. He imagined a future with her. Them with children of their own. And he decided that given the choice, he would probably do the same thing she did if it had been his kid Bellamy put on the front lines. If it had been Emori that Octavia was after. 

What he did to her in Santum. Covering up the fact that Josephine Lightborn had taken over her body. That was probably worse than any crime Clarke ever committed against him. 

He mourned her in secret, sure. Mourned her in the way only fellow sinners could mourn each other. She was a kindred spirit who forgave him constantly, willing to give him chance after chance. Even when she got her body back and faced him. She wiped his tears and saw his regret and _forgave_ him. She forgave him for betraying her. For every nasty thing he sneered, for the threats he spat and her mistakes that he brought up _every goddamn minute_. 

Maybe the green glow killed them all. Maybe he would see her in this hell. Maybe they could burn in hellfire forever if it meant that their loved ones were laid to rest in heaven or whatever place they ended up in. 

“Shit, is Murphy _crying_?” 

_What the fuck?_

“No, I think he’s laughing at himself. Whatever it is, it doesn’t sound very funny.” 

_Wait, hold the fuck up._

“Hey Murphy, man, snap out of it!” 

Murphy turned around as best as he could, the fucking _belts_ he was clasped in were fucking tight, and craned his head so he could meet the eyes of the dead. 

“ _Mbege_? You fucker, is that really you?” 

His **dead** friend smirked slightly, dark featured etched in amusement as he shrugged his shoulders, “Alive and kicking, you son of a bitch!” 

Murphy threw his head back laughing, “Ah, you cheeky bastard! You don’t look a day over eighteen.” 

Mbege raised an eyebrow, “Neither do you.” 

“Aw shucks,” Murphy frowned, not liking the exaggeration, “Don’t lie to me. I know I look my age. Twenty-three is hard to pull off, but I think I did it fairly fucking well.” 

Mbege flashed the girl beside him, a petite, vaguely familiar red-head, a concerned look, “Alright, I’m not going to question that. Look man, we need to figure out a fucking game plan.” 

Murphy shrugged his signature ‘why bother’ and leaned back, making himself comfortable in his new prison. 

“Already have one. Sit back, relax and enjoy my time in eternal damnation. _Yadi yadi ya_.” 

He tried to wave his hands around but found he could barely lift his arm with the way the belts were strapped over him, “So tell me what did you do to end up in Hell? I know you punched a guard once but, come on, is that _**seriously**_ worthy of being damned?” 

“ _Hell worthy_? Man, what the fuck are on about?” 

Murphy heard a feminine sigh before a soft, high-pitched voice spoke up. 

“He thinks we’re dead.” 

The cockroach craned his neck to meet the gaze of the doe-eyed girl whose name was _literally_ on the tip of his tongue, “Of course we’re dead. I wouldn’t be seeing you two if I weren't. Also I’m on a fucking Ark dropship. Haven’t seen one of these in a few years and Eligius has a different make. So I’m either dead or high – if it’s the later than Bellamy is gonna kick my ass.” 

The red head and Mbege gaped at him before his best friend leaned forward. 

“Murphy. You’re not dead and you’re not high. We’re alive. I don’t know how but, we’re on an Ark dropship that has just been deployed. We landed over half an hour ago.” 

Murphy, while his friend was talking, had leaned back so he was gazing at them through hooded eyes upside down. He decided he was _definitely_ dead and this was just another mindfuck. 

The red-head saw him come to this decision and rolled her eyes, “He doesn’t believe us.” 

He scoffed at her. 

“Of course, I don’t believe you. Believing you would mean the fucking impossible.” 

“I know it’s hard to believe but somehow we _are_ alive. We’re back on a dropship, one that has only been on the ground for barely an hour. But something has changed –“ 

“Uh yeah, I figured,” Murphy drawled lazily, his eyes rolling into the back of his head, “Sanctum has _obviously_ been hiding the good shit while we were here.” 

“ _ **God fucking dammit, John!**_ ” Mbege growled, kicking the back of his chair and causing the metal to rattle against his spine. 

Oh shit, he _felt_ that. That felt **very** fucking real. 

His friend kept talking in a fierce and impatient snarl, “We’re all **alive**. Somehow or something has brought us back. Get that through that thick fucking skull of yours! We’ve gone back in time or some shit like that. We still have our memories, all of them up until the time we died. I heard Bartlett and Colton yelling shit about Grounders so I know it’s not just us cause there’s no fucking way that I died before those two wimps. It’s just like before. Same Skybox clothes, Jaha is still fucking Chancellor except –“ 

“The adults.” 

The red headed girl merely whispered but it was enough to make Murphy whip his head around fast enough to give him whiplash. His eyes sought out the details, like the lack of dirt underneath his nails or the missing callous of his hands. The new dark navy pants and the jacket that hung on his skinny frame – one missing the muscle and fat that had built up since his time on the ground. He leaned his head forward until his chin met his collarbone and felt his breath shudder when he found his face lacking the prickly feeling of facial hair. He looked up and met the eyes of a strange man, probably around his early forties - but that wasn’t the strange part. It was the familiar back vest and the Ark insignia that left a deep, sickening feeling in his throat. 

“A guardsman?" 

He heard the shuffling behind him but didn’t look away from the older man across the level from him as he heard the girl whisper. 

“Do you believe us _now_? We’re not in hell but it's sure going to _feel_ like it if we don’t figure out a game plan.” 

Murphy gulped, his mind reeling. He did the one thing that had never once failed to make him feel like he was on flat ground. 

“You know, you look _very_ familiar. I know I used to see you around camp – before I was kicked out, of course. What’s your name again?” 

He heard a frustrated groan and a deep breathe and fought back a grin. _That_ was the sound of him getting on someones nerves and it made him feel like he had some power in this **very** disturbing situation. 

“It’s Fox. I was in Mount Weather with Jasper and the others. Last thing I remember was being strapped to a table and pain in my fucking back.” 

Murphy sat back and sighed, “You’re one of the ones they got first for bone marrow.” 

“Yeah, I guess I was,” she said, her voice hardening, “but make no mistake, I’m not going out _that_ easy this time.” 

“Wow, Red,” Mbege whistled lowly, and the grin was audiable in his voice as he said, “I didn’t remember you being this spunky.” 

He heard her chair creak as she settled back, “What can I say? Death gave me a backbone.” 

It was silent for a minute before Murphy remembered this so-called "plan" they were trying to get him to make. 

“So, tell me again _why_ we have to make a game plan?” 

His best friend coughed as the guard started walking forward, causing all of them to sit up straighter in their seats. The guard looked down his nose at them, his lips curling into a sneer as he slowed down next to them. He must have gotten a kick from making them tense up because he let out a snort before continuing forward. They didn’t say a word until another guardsman came back and positioned himself in the spot the last one vacated and resumed to watch over the Delinquents. 

Murphy heard Mbege sigh before his chair creaked once more and heard his best friend closer now. 

“Look, think about it. Now that we’re _all_ down here, _**nothing**_ is going to change. The Ark is going to keep us around as prison labor until they don’t need us anymore and throws us away for the grounders to kill us. Look, before you woke up, me and Red heard a bunch of guards going to check out the nearest dropship sight which they said was about an hour or so from here. They are _counting_ on us to go along with whatever the fuck their plan is because they _think_ we’re unsure. New land, new place - that kind of shit. What they _don’t_ know is that we know the ground like the back of our fucking hands. We fought Grounders! Hell, the very _fact_ that we know they’re out there is enough of an advantage that I bet the rest of the hundred are going to run as soon as they get a chance. And I say, we should too.” 

The more Murphy thought about it, the more it made sense. Of, course most of them are going to run. He bet that if Bellamy and Clarke are out there, they’ve probably come to the same conclusion as Mbege. 

_We’re expendable._

_They couldn’t care less if we lived or died._

_Hell, they’ll probably kill us off themselves._

He heard Mbege lean forward some more, well, as far forward as the seat belts would let him and heard him say in a hushed voice. 

“I bet on Bellamy, Octavia, Monty, Jasper and Finn leaving. Raven will follow Spacewalker. Harper I’m unsure about. Princess and Jaha Jnr will probably stay with their privileged parents now that they’re on the ground too. Miller most probably will too. But everybody else will follow Bellamy, so -” 

Murphy laughed like it was funny until he remembered that the two _kids_ behind him had been dead for a while now. And long overdue for a catch up. 

“You’ve got it all wrong, my friend. Jasper won’t go anywhere without Monty, who won’t leave Harper - even if their lives depended on it. All three of them will _definently_ follow Bellamy. Octavia will too, last time I saw her she was trying to patch things up with him. Raven _might_ stay with Sinclair unless Bellamy convinces her to leave. Miller has some guilt left over so he will definently be following Bellamy. And Clarke too. Lucky for Miller, you won't find one without the other anytime soon. Finn and Wells will follow Clarke. And the Princess herself? She’ll probably be **_heading_** the fucking revolution.” 

_If Clarke has a second chance, she’s gonna fucking milk that shit._

“What the hell happened when we were gone?” Mbege asked, an incredulous look etched onto his face. 

Murphy’s lips curled into a humorless smile as tilted his head backwards to the look the two of them in the eye. 

“Long story short: We destroyed the fucking world.” 

\- 

It was about half an hour, after Murphy shocked the two resurrected delinquents into silence, that they heard a commotion from level one. They heard a guardsman barking orders and the excited chatter of the Delinquents below. Ugly, the first guard who had sneered at them before, came back and gestured for the other guard watching them to come forward to where he stood beside Murphy, Mbege and Fox. Ugly glared down at them all, silently daring them to make a move so that he could have an _excuse_ to bash their heads in. Murphy wanted to smirk, push his buttons a bit but resisted based **soley** on the fact that if he was _indeed_ reborn anew, he didn’t want to damage his body so soon after getting it. He had to remind himself that this one didn’t have a chip in it that could save him so if a guard were to smash his head in, it would _sayonara_ for this sucker. 

The other guard, who had been quietly staring off into space the entire time he was up there with them, leaned down to let them out of their restraints. Ugly led them single file down to the first level where seven other delinquents stood quietly facing the front. Thanks to Mbege, he knew that Tim Bartlett and Peter Colton were there. He recognized the three D’s, Dax, Diggs and Derek who all used to chop up meat in the camp. He vaguely remembered the girl, a butcher like them and the other boy whose only _real_ identity was, for now, ‘the kid who used to follow Finn around like a puppy dog’. 

****

There were four guardsman in total and Ugly looked like the designated leader as they stood before the dropship door, trying to look as intimidating as possible. 

****

Ugly stepped forward as if to make it clear that he was ‘top dog’ right now – _we get it, you got a big dick, good for you_ – and cleared his throat. 

****

_As if you didn’t already have our attention._

****

“Listen up. I’m only going to say this _once_. The nearest dropship is an hour away from here. You, the Skybox prisoners from both dropships, will be taken halfway between there and here where a camp will be set up and where you will _stay_ until we have orders from Alpha. While Chancellor Jaha has _chosen_ to spare you, you will get no higher position down here on the ground than that of work labor, where you will assist in the rebuilding of the Ark on the Ground. **_Make no mistake_**. While you are no longer going to be _floated_ for your crimes, one wrong move **will** end in your immediate imprisonment and you will face the same punishment as all criminals of the Ark: **Death**. Is that understood?” 

****

No one moved. Not even a nod. Ugly’s lips curled up in a sickeningly gleeful grin. 

****

“Good. Let’s get moving. Don’t lag behind, kids. This is not a walk in the park.” 

****

Ugly nodded for his comrades to come forth. The Delinquents were arranged in single file. Murphy found himself behind Mbege and in front of Fox. Dax, Derek, Diggs and the butcher girl, Shalia, were in front of them while Colton and Bartlett were placed behind Fox. When they were done, Ugly gave one nod of satisfactory before stepping onto the ground. Despite his tough exterior, he couldn’t hide the deep breath he took or the widening of his eyes as they adjusted to the bright light of the sun as it shone through the trees. They followed after him and when Murphy’s boots touched the ground for the second first time in his life, he felt Deja vu as memories from another lifetime flashed behind his eyes. 

****

Where there was no ugly guardsman, no single file. 

****

Just **_pure fucking chaos_**. 

****

“We’re back, bitches,” he smirked, the words leaving his mouth without a second thought. For a minute, the group of them shared that secret humor with a laugh. It felt like they were back there again. Like nothing had changed. Like it hadn’t been a **literal** century and a half since he was that young. Like he was living this for the _first time_. 

****

That was until the baton met his face with a sickening crunch. And fuck, did it hurt like a **bitch**! 

****

“ **FUCK!** ” 

****

He screamed into his hand, his other one coming to hover over the right side of chin. He glared up through watering eyes as Ugly lowered his baton. 

****

_That fucking bastard._

****

Ugly yanked him up straight by the collar and pulled him in close to tell him to _shut up_ and _keep walking_. 

****

The old Murphy would have spat in his face, 

****

The new Murphy was smarter. He knew that this guy just wanted an excuse to bust his head in. He was _not_ gonna give him one. _Yet_. 

****

As Ugly returned to the front of the line, Mbege turned to him with a look that roughly translated into ‘ _we’re gonna give this guy **hell**_ ’. 

****

Murphy grinned through bloody teeth. 

****

_Damn fucking straight._

****

The other guardsmen positioned themselves to cover all directions. Two on the sides and one at the back. They both kept pace with Mbege and Murphy, revealing they obviously found these two to be the most aggressive of the group. That was a stupid mistake on their part. 

****

They basically _ignored_ Fox, whose nimble hands and quick speed were the reason she ended up in the Skybox in the first place and didn’t bat an eye at Shalia, whose _sheer_ body mass and muscle rivaled that of the three D’s behind her. If anyone had a chance at running right now, it was those two. 

****

He knew they weren’t going to take that chance any time soon. If he had to guess, he’d say they were going to wait until they met up with the other group. They stood a bigger chance in numbers of overpowering the guards. 

****

He already figured Ugly out. Provoke him, wait until he goes for the baton and strike. Headbutt, an elbow to the nose and a swift kick to his legs to knock them right out from underneath him. Maybe a kick to the face for hitting him with a fucking baton. **_God_** , those things **hurt**. 

****

The one behind them obviously wouldn’t see Fox coming. She’d get the keys for the wrist restraints and run. Colton and Bartlett, with enough brain cells to share between them, could possibly distract him. They couldn’t be _that_ useless after all. If they needed help, Shalia could do it all on her own. 

****

The one hovering by Mbege could be taken out by Derek and Diggs, maybe even Dax if necessary. 

****

But the one whose steps matched Murphy’s exactly, he wasn’t so sure about him. The guy was blonde, tall and probably in his late forties. Older than Ugly, that’s for sure. 

****

But he was fucking _familiar_ and Murphy couldn’t put his finger on it. The guy didn’t watch the Delinquents but **never** let Ugly out of his sight. 

****

Murphy decided he would figure it out later when they sat down for a break. Not that _they_ would get a break, not with _Ugly_ leading the fucking party anyway. But he figured the old guy would want to take a breather and show off while he did it. When that happened, Murphy would figure out what the blonde guy was up to. 

****

For now, there were other things on his mind. Like Emori. 

****

What would she be doing right now? In this time? A time before he met her in the wasteland. 

****

_Knowing the love of my life, she’s probably stealing from some poor unknowing passbyer._

****

He could just imagine it. Her swaggering up to some thirty soul, their dry lips barely moving to ask for water. Her smile as she realized that she didn't need a lie to get what she wanted. Her dark, braided hair blowing gently in the soft desert wind. Or her soft, brown eyes creasing at the corners as she looked back at her brother Otan, as if to say, _too easy_. 

****

A wistful smile appeared on Murphy’s lips. Or maybe she’s roaming the sands for pieces of scrap metal, kneeling in the coarse sand and turning glimmering bits of iron around. She would stare at it in amazement and hide it in her pocket, deciding that she’ll find something else for the drones to take back to ALIE. 

****

His little thief. 

****

He couldn’t wait to see her again. To hear her voice. To hear her call him John - because _nobody_ ever called him that, and if they did, they didn’t sound as good as her when she said it. She always sounded like she was surprised and exasperated with him and _he fucking **loved** it_. He loved how when he caressed her skin, he would feel little particles of sand that were still on her despite the fact she hadn’t been in the wasteland for years. How she would shudder when he traced her facial tattoo and beamed when he held her hand. 

****

The one that she used to always keep hidden under gloves and wrapped cloth. She hadn’t done that since before the Ring and he was proud of her. 

****

It just showed how comfortable she was around them. _Her people_. They could be her people once more when he had her back. 

****

After all, they had a wedding to plan. 

****

His heartbeat went a little faster at the thought. He knew he couldn’t go to her straight away. He had to get away from the guards first, get the others to a safe place. Meet up with Bellamy and the others and wait until they’ve settled down and were safe for the mean time. Well, as safe as one could get on the ground. 

****

Then he would convince Bellamy to let him take a group out to the wasteland. He might even get lucky and convince Bellamy _himself_ to come with him, Emori _was_ part of their family after all. He knew Clarke would agree with him, no need to guilt her. She knew how much Emori meant to him and he also knew that she cared about Emori, despite him saying otherwise. Raven would want to go to but there was _no way in hell_ he'd let her come with that leg of hers. Not without the Rover or some other transportation. 

****

Besides, at least two of them have to stay and make sure things didn’t go to hell for a second time around. 

****

Murphy wondered what he would say when he saw her again. She wouldn’t know who he was or what they meant to each other. He remembered the first time they met. She was conning him, leading him into a trap so she could go away with all of their rations and bags. He must have softened her up somehow because she told him which way to go and greeted him with one of those easy smiles of hers. What did he say that made her smile at him in such a way? Surely, it couldn’t have been that line about how he killed people. He didn’t think that was anything to get hot about. Then again, they _did_ have a heavy make out session when they blew up those guys from Eligius that time in the woods. Or that intense look she gave him when she declared they had a hostage. So, _maybe_ death and destruction was just their thing. 

****

_Murphy, you fucking idiot!_

****

He nearly slapped himself right there when he remembered. It was when she showed him her hand. 

****

All her life, that hand only got her one thing. **Pain.**

****

Exiled by her people. Hostility from others. Discrimination. Mockery. Threats of Death. 

****

He remembered what he said when he saw it. 

****

_“Screw 'em! I wouldn't cover it up. I think its badass."_

****

_Emori smiled, “Liar.”_

****

He _wasn't_ lying. He honestly didn’t mind it. In fact, it just made her more **real** to him. At the time, he didn’t feel like he belonged with the Ark survivors. His friends were all in Mount Weather or dead and Bellamy and Clarke were trying to get them out. Emori was like him, though. Everyone had cast her away, only saw her for her hand like everyone saw him for the bloodstains on his. Except now, those blood stains were gone, and she had a family out there willing to accept her. Murphy remembered her brother and knew she wouldn’t leave without him. They were going to be family so he would be responsible for them. Show her he could provide and all that stuff that makes the chicks crazy. Or maybe she would one up him and show him that she could take care of herself. She’s unpredictable, his Emori. 

****

And it was daydreaming about his future wife that caused him to almost run into Mbege’s back if it wasn’t for Fox’s hand gripping the back of his jacket. Ugly had stopped the group and announced it was break time. That meant that he spent fifteen minutes thinking about Emori. And honestly, he thought that was time well spent. But that also meant that was time he spent not watching the forests around him. He realized that it was quiet. Which meant there was a Grounder nearby. 

****

There were still some animals twittering around, mostly birds. So that meant, there must only be one or two. Probably scouts, if he had to guess. Maybe Lincoln, as he lived nearby. 

****

They’re probably only there to watch and report until they know the strengths and weaknesses of the enemy. If Murphy had to bet, he would guess that Bellamy and Clarke would probably want him to strive for the ‘ _not enemy_ ’ option. Anything was better than getting his fucking nails removed again. 

****

The guard who had been shadowing him placed a hand on his shoulder. Murphy had been engulfed in looking at the trees that he flinched at the sudden contact, his shoulder blades stiffening. He glared warningly at the blonde guard who, to his credit, merely inclined his head to follow him. He turned and watched as the others were led to different trees, being split up into groups of two and three. The Roach remembered he needed to find out more about this guardsman. 

****

_Couldn’t exactly take down the other three and leave this guy walking around all good and shiny._

****

The blonde man stopped at a tree a bit away from the others and offered his canister. Murphy glanced at him uncertainly before the guy rolled his eyes, taking a sip before offering it once more. Murphy gave him a small smile. Yeah, he knew the drink was clean. He just wanted to make it clear he didn’t trust the guy. 

****

He waited until Murphy had a few swigs before clearing his throat. Murphy raised an eyebrow, lowering the bottle and waiting for the guy to get on with it. 

****

The older man looked around once to check to see if anyone was listening before leaning in slightly. 

****

“Do you know Aslynn? Aslynn Whelan? Short girl, blonde, around sixteen years old?” 

****

Murphy blinked. 

****

_Aslynn Whelan. Now **that’s** a name he hadn't heard in a while._

****

The last time he saw Aslynn was just before he closed the dropship door on Bellamy, Jasper and himself. You wouldn’t know it, but before the ground, back on the Ark, they used to be best friends. Well, at least, in the Skybox. They were as close as him and Mbege. In fact, his friend used to have a crush on her. She never did tell them how she got herself locked up. Refused to see anyone for visiting day. But she was pretty good at poker, somehow got goods smuggled into the Skybox and wasn’t afraid to have a little fun in Pike’s Earth Skills class. She _even_ spoke to Octavia once without getting the cold shoulder. During the first time around, they were sitting next to each other on the drop down. 

****

After that, he didn’t see her much. She got with some guy named Yaxley and started learning how to fight, although they still met up for a round of good ole' Black Jack. Last time they had any semblance of serious conversation, it was before the incident in the dropship. After everyone was recovering and they ran into each other just before he went in to snuff out Connor. 

****

_“I’m glad you're back, Murphy. I knew you wouldn’t have killed Jaha Jrn.”_

****

_“Gee, thanks Az, would've been nice if you told Bellamy and Clarke that before they tried to **kill** me.”_

****

_“ **Hey!** ” she yelled, lunging at him like a wild cat, “Listen, **asshole** , I **did** try to stop it. It’s hard for someone five foot four to do anything against almost a hundred angry teenagers. I almost got my head stomped in if it wasn’t for Bek. And even afterwards, I told everyone you didn’t do anything wrong. When Del started spreading shit about you and Octavia, **I** was the one that put him in his place.”_

****

_“Aw shucks. You shouldn’t have._ ” 

****

_She laughed humorlessly, “I won't wait around for a thanks, Murphy. But know that you're my friend. And I don’t let my friends get stepped on without a fight. But sometimes, you fight and you **lose**.”_

****

She walked away after that. He heard that she died in Mount Weather alongside her boyfriend. Miller told Bellamy that she was one of the first ones taken because she tried to pick a fight with anyone that approached her. The last time anyone saw her was when her dead body was being carried out of the room. That was also the last time anyone saw her boyfriend alive. Apparently, the way _Miller_ tells it anyway, Yaxley went ‘berserk’ and just charged the Mountain Men before he was overpowered and taken too. 

****

Murphy realized that the old man was waiting for him to respond and decided that if the guy wanted information, the cockroach wanted some in return. 

****

“What’s she to you?” he said snidely, leaning against the tree to take another sip of the canister. 

****

“I’m her uncle.” 

****

Murphy choked on his drink and spent a moment spattering it out onto his shoes. 

****

He wiped under his chin and looked up at the guard with burning eyes. 

****

“You’re her fucking **_what?!_** ” 

****

“Uncle. Her mother was my kid sister. Early generation before the one-child policy.” 

****

“ _Fuck_. Well, where’s she then?” 

****

“She was in the First Culling. Where all siblings volunteered or were forced into the chamber.” 

****

“Well than, where’s Aslynn’s father?” 

****

“Floated. For having more than one child and trying to hide them. Three girls. Aslynn’s the youngest. The two eldest ones are eighteen and were recently up for review before we were all sent down.” 

****

Murphy _couldn’t_ believe what he was fucking hearing. He thought that Octavia was the only known child to ever survive hidden for that long. To hear that three children from the same family had survived was _incomprehensible_. But it made sense though. Aslynn probably saw the amount of attention Octavia got from it and decided it wasn’t worth the hassle. 

****

“Look, kid,” the guardsman groaned, putting a hand to his head, “I’ve told you enough information. Now give some to me for a change. My niece is out there somewhere and I need to go find her before she does something stupid like run off into the wilderness or punch someone’s face in. I already know where the other two are – they have more common sense than their sister – so I don’t have to worry about them. So, do you know where she is?” 

****

Murphy scrunched his face up at the guy, his eyes narrowing as he debated what to tell him. The guy seemed sincere, and if he could convince the him that he could lead him to Aslynn, he might be able to get the guy to help them all get out of there. 

****

He gave the older man a crooked grin before settling back into the tree. 

****

“Look, I could _take_ you to where she would go. You're right, she’ll probably run. But I know where she will go. And I can take you there. If –“ 

****

“Oh, here we fucking go –“ the old man threw his hands up in exasperation. 

****

“ _If_ you help me and my fellow cellmates make a jail break.” 

****

“No." 

****

“Fine. Then no deal. Have fun tracking down Aslynn in a radiation-soaked forest, full of possible animal mutations that would **love** if dinner came across them.” 

****

Murphy knew he had the guy. The guard was just too proud. 

****

“ _Say_ ,” the older man began with a slight twist of his eye, “that I go along with your plan -” 

****

“Which you will.” 

****

“How do you know I won't just take Aslynn and tell the others where you are?” 

****

Murphy rolled his eyes, “Of course you’ll tell them. And good luck with the whole ‘taking Aslynn thing’ though. As if _that_ little spitfire will just **leave**.” 

****

“She’ll come if she wants to see her sisters.” 

****

“I _guarantee_ you that her sisters will probably come to her before she comes to her sisters. If they’re part of the hundred, than you're going to find them all in the same place.” 

****

“What? Do you kids have a secret club house on Earth we don’t know about?” the man asked with a snort. 

****

Murphy smirked knowingly at him, making the guard’s humor dissipate slowly. 

****

“You _wouldn’t_ know the **_half_** of it,” he drawled mischievously, “Do we have a deal?” 

****

“You know we do, you little twerp.” 

****

The cockroach grinned victoriously, “Good. The name’s Murphy.” 

****

The guardsman sniffed his nose warily, “Decker Whelan.” 

****

\- 

****

It didn’t take long to get to the halfway point. The guards were out of breath, they weren’t used to walking for so long and in such a strenuous environment. The child prisoners, however, _they_ were used to it. They had spent months running, hiking and scouting these lands. Spent them hiding, escaping and fighting all that came after them and then some. The ones who survived, like Murphy, now had the strength and stamina that walking such a short distance did _nothing_ to him, even if the terrain was harsh and pressing. 

****

When he saw the other group through the trees, he immediately grinned. 

****

The redhead grinned back and waved at them, before being told off by their lot of guardsmen. Murphy bit back a laugh when he saw the girl flip the guy off behind his back. 

****

“Classic Monroe,” Mbege chuckled to himself. Murphy silently agreed. 

****

The fiery redhead could handle guns like the best of them and was one of Bellamy’s most trusted back in the camp. He also knew she and Miller were close before she died, and that she used to want to be a guardsman before she realized they were all _**dicks**_. Then she decided she wanted to antagonize them instead. Though she was a firecracker, she had a certain degree of responsibility and respected Bellamy and Miller’s leadership. That was something that would come in handy if they were all to get out of here alive. He couldn’t afford some stupid wannabe cool kid going rogue and fucking his plan up. 

****

Beside her was a blonde he knew quiet well as she used to follow around Bellamy like a lovesick puppy. She eventually followed the guy to her death when they went looking for Octavia. A spear to the chest was no way to go and it was too bad that she didn’t survive it like Jasper had. Roma was an airhead, _sure_ , but she was harmless and generally an okay person. Looking at her now, though, it was obvious that, like with everyone else, death had changed her. 

****

Big brown eyes darted around frantically, like a deer that knew something was out there watching them. She hid behind Monroe, who despite her seemingly relaxed grin, was also in a stance he knew quiet well. It was one they all learnt, one they all made when they were ready to move quick. 

****

Roma’s terror dissipated a bit when she recognized it was just them coming out of the trees. She recognized the rest of the Delinquents as allies, more people who could defend her and fight off whatever was out there right now. Murphy felt like telling her that it was probably only Lincoln and that she had nothing to worry about for at least a few days. 

****

Grounder didn’t like to confront such large, foreign forces without getting the full report. Numbers, weapons and locations. But he knew that it wouldn’t help ease her stress. In fact, _his_ appearance probably added to it because the last memories she had of him were probably of him being banished by her crush and Clarke. 

****

Ugly led them to a stop where they were told to put down the supplies they had been carrying and to line up in rows of three. The other kids were told the same thing and now that they were staring straight at each other, Murphy recognized other familiar faces like Atom, whose eyes glared at him from behind Roma and Jones who was grinning at the others with a look that clearly said ‘ _now it’s a party_ ’. There were a few others whose names escaped him but they all wore the same expression. Grim knowledge darkened their features and their eagerness to _get the fuck out of there_ was apparent to all but the guards, who laughed and joked like they were in the safest place in the world. 

****

_News fucking flash people, there was no such place._

****

This only convinced him that the guardsmen would forever be a group of dumbasses. Except maybe Sargent Miller. 

****

A nudge to his side brought out a hiss from him and he glared up at Mbege. His friend inclined his head towards where Monroe now stood a few steps to Mbege’s right. She winked and gestured to her guards, before gesturing to herself and the rest of the kids from her dropship, implying that she would take the four guardsmen who had been with them. Murphy nodded and gestured to his group and did the same, but pointed to Whelan then to himself, with the okay gesture. He watched her raise a brow in suspicion and groaned internally. 

****

_Couldn’t people just trust me and let it go?_

****

He gave her look that told her just that and watched as she rolled her eyes, accepting it for now. 

****

_That’s better. Could’ve gone without the attitude but I’ll take what I can get for now._

****

He held up a finger for her to wait before coughing loudly. He heard Mbege whisper for everyone behind him to get ready before turning to the front just as the guardsmen stopped laughing at whatever was _so fucking funny_ and came to stand in front of them. Ugly walked right up to him, his cold eyes narrowed at the cockroach in cruel intent. 

****

“Do you have something to say, _boy_?” 

****

Murphy glared at up at him through hooded eyes before sliding them towards Whelan with a sly wink. He looked back up at Ugly in time to see the flash of anger and moved just as the baton started to swing towards him. He grabbed it, ignoring the flicker of pain in his wrist and pushed the baton, and Ugly, away from him as hard as he could. 

****

“ **NOW!** ” he heard Mbege shout before the Delinquents jumped into action. 

****

And then it was **chaos**. 

****

_Just like old times._

****

Monroe, as promised, immediately went for the guards that came with her, tackling one and beating the living shit out of him before declaring him out. Tugging Roma along behind her, she picked up his rifle before slinging it over one shoulder and running back into the fray to help the others. 

****

Letting out a whoop, Murphy went after Ugly when the man tried to raise his own rifle to shoot, but not anticipating the lack of space between him and the boy, couldn’t aim it in time before Murphy brought his fist into his face, sending him sprawling backwards. Mbege immediately helped him in pining the guardsman down, Murphy kneeling on his chest while his best friend held his shoulders. 

****

Fox took up a position behind them, shouting over her shoulder that she would warn them if someone was heading in their direction. The two boys gave her a brisk nod before getting down to business, turning back to watch Ugly sneer up at them, “What’re you gonna do? You gonna run off into the forest? Are you lot outta your mind?!" 

****

“Well, what I have to say next _might_ **_sound_** crazy, but stranger things _have_ happened - like the prisoner revolution you just had the _privilege_ of witnessing,” Murphy drawled, smirking down at Ugly before continuing, “I wonder how you’re gonna explain to your superiors that you lost twenty two kids on your first day on the ground. But that really sounds like a _you_ problem, doesn’t it?” 

****

“You think your _so_ smart, kid,” Ugly cackled, blood dribbling from his lips as he did so, “You’re not gonna last a _day_ out there. You have _no clue_ what we came back down to.” 

****

“Actually, we _**do**_ ,” Murphy told him, sharing a grin with Mbege before he whispered to the guardsman, “We know this fucking place like the back of our hands. And in another life, I would have left you all to rot but because I feel like we’re still trying to ‘ _do better_ ’, I feel like I’m _**obligated**_ to give you a helping hand.” 

****

“God, aren’t you special?” Mbege exclaimed to the man dramatically, turning his wide eyes to Murphy as he mouthed ‘Do Better?’ 

****

Murphy gave his best friend a look that said ‘I’ll explain later’ before glancing back down at the man and seeing the first sign of fear creep into his dark irises and _knew_ that he had to help the poor sucker out. 

****

“Keep going South. Don’t broach East. Keep away from the Mountain. Don’t shoot anyone. And the trees have eyes.” 

****

With that, he brought the butt of the rifle down on the man’s head, knocking him out in one go. 

****

_And boy, would that leave a nasty bruise. I feel sorry for the old lug already._

****

But then Murphy’s mouth started to ache in pain again and he tasted metal in the back of his throat, immediately forgetting any mercy he had for the guy as he told Mbege, “Drag him and the others over to that tree over there. Make sure that his head hit’s every rock on the way there, though.” 

****

His best friend gave him a mocking salute before doing as instructed, grabbing Ugly by his legs and hefting him along to the outline of the trees. He saw a shadow out of the corner of his eye and flinched back instinctively with a hand on his commandeered rifle before realizing it was just Fox. 

****

The red haired girl didn’t say anything about his jumpy reaction, merely watching Mbege as she commented, “You certainly seemed _helpful_. I didn’t expect you to give them that much.” 

****

“Well, Red, when you consider the chances of the Ark actually _listening_ to anything we have to say, you would come to realize that I didn’t actually tell them _anything_ at all,” Murphy replied smartly before turning back to see how the others were going. 

****

Shalia and Monroe had their three guys on the ground, Atom had taken out another, the others had taken out the other three while Dax…. 

****

Well, Dax had Whelan up against the tree, a hand around his throat and squeezing hard. 

****

_Shit, I should probably go stop him from murdering our new ally_. 

****

Murphy sprinted over to the two and ripped Dax off of the flailing guard. The boy stumbled back and onto the ground in shock, looking up at Murphy in accusation as he shouted, “ _ **What the fuck, man?!**_ " 

****

Murphy made sure the blonde man at the tree was still breathing before turning to Dax with a slight curl of his lips, kneeling down and murmuring, “ _This_ is from Bellamy and Clarke.” 

****

Then he punched him. **Hard**. 

****

He felt the skin split under his knuckles, grazing against the hard bone underneath before he pulled back with a wince. He didn’t know if the blood on the back of his hands was his or Dax’s but it didn’t matter. Murphy got to his feet, brushing himself off before announcing to everyone. 

****

“Here’s the deal. We all died. We’re all back. Second chances for everyone and all that crap. Now some of us have......history. Some of us have **_a lot_** of history– “ he threw a look at Dax and Atom, the latter nodding imperceptibly, wondering, just like everyone else, where Murphy was going with this, “But we have to put that aside if we don’t want to _die_. Like last time. Because something tells me we only have one shot at this and if we waste it because _someone_ wants to start shit, than what the hell is this even for?!” 

****

Murphy looked them all in the eye before turning to the boy holding his nose as blood spurted from his nostrils in streams down the lower half of his face, “Some of us betrayed the camp. Some of us killed others. And some of us _tried_ to kill others but didn’t succeed.” 

****

He kneeled on the ground beside Dax’s head as he whispered loud enough for the rest of them to hear, “But I’m willing to put that all behind me if it means surviving. What’s say you?” 

****

Dax’s glassy eyes narrowed up at him, staring at the hand Murphy extended and back at the boy who was being uncharacteristically mature and genuine. Just like everybody else, Dax was shocked. The Murphy they knew was a _petty **sonofabitch**_ who held grudges like the best of them. Who hated Bellamy, hated Clarke more and was thought to hate _every single one of them_ , at least, that's how it seemed the last time most of them saw him. 

****

But like he said, they all died. Some long before others and some long after. Nobody knew his true moniker, the one he earned those years in the Ring with Spacekru. But they could see it suddenly, see that Murphy was far older than he looked. And it suddenly hit them that this was real. This was their second chance. 

****

And they would do anything to keep it. 

****

Even if it meant swallowing their pride and taking the hand of the guy who just broke their nose. 

****

Dax nodded, grabbing Murphy’s hand with one of his own while the other squeezed his nose, the other boy helping him off the ground and dusting the dirt off his back, clapping it once before leading him forward to the group. 

****

“Well, boss, where to?” Mbege drawled, wiping his hands on his trousers before crossing his arms over his chest. Fox came to stand next to him, his towering height dwarfing her small frame but not the newfound determination that shone from her. 

****

Monroe came to stand next to Murphy, holding out her newfound rifle in a way that gave him a warm sensation in his chest at the sight of it, the sight of _her_ , the sight of _all_ his friends from a time he thought long gone. 

****

_Nostalgia._

****

They all looked to _him_ for once and it became abruptly clear to him – in a weirder sensation than getting all warm and fuzzy in the chest at seeing _Monroe of all people_ handle a gun – that Bellamy and Clarke _weren’t_ here. Neither was Raven or Octavia or Echo or anyone who usually held the mantle of leader. 

****

He wasn’t a fucking leader. He was the guy that fucked shit up, drank too much and liked to handle big guns. He was the one who ran his mouth, who blew up places and wasn’t afraid to get his hands dirty. He was the one who survived, throwing caution to the wind and running on luck and a certain degree of charm that helped him get out of sticky situations. 

****

This shit wasn’t him but he’d be damned if he left it up to any of these people to lead them. So he rolled back his shoulders and adjusted his grip on his own rifle as he declared, “We go get our friends.”

****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, let me know what you thought! Feedbacks, criticism and suggestions *which will be credited* are deeply appreciated and welcomed by all!


	3. || Whatever the Hell We Want

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jasper leads the Delinquents down the mountain, running into some familiar faces and not so familiar faces. Meanwhile, Clarke tags the Mountain they landed on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everybody enjoys this chapter! Please comment below what you thought and remember that all suggestions, feedback and criticism is welcomed and deeply appreciated x

#### JASPER JORDAN

“Everybody, keep up!” Jasper called over his shoulder, blood rushing loudly to his ears as he warned, “You guys know what happens if we lag behind.” 

The rest of the kids grumbled darkly at that, but nevertheless fastened their pace until he could feel the warmth from the mass of their bodies at his back. Strangely, it made him smile, knowing they were all with him. Well, obviously not _everyone_ but people he knew from before. 

From before Mount Weather fell, back in the camp. Even if some of these people used to complain about his cowardice or once screamed for him to shut up after he came back from a spear in the chest, they were better than the people who he faced back at Arkadia. 

Those people weren’t his people. They weren’t his family. 

His mother and father had died when Agro station crashed. Hannah Green, before her and Pike’s group had settled into their role as dictators of Arkadia, had told him with sad, grim eyes about how it was quick. They were there and then they weren’t. Their entire chamber in Agro was destroyed, crushed by an awkward impact with the harsh, icy mountain that was the terrifying jewel of Ice Nation. 

Jasper, at the time, was too far gone to really care about another two losses to add to the hundreds of people who died in Mount Weather, including his girlfriend Maya. Or, at least, he thought she was his girlfriend. They had kissed, they had laughed, they had talked of a future beyond the conflict happening outside, of the conflict that soon found itself inside of the mountain. Of a future where she would come back with him to Arkadia, where he would show her the ground and all it had to offer. 

_You know, besides the copious amounts of radiation, hungry mutated animals and the grounders itching to rip out the throats of anyone who went under the moniker of ‘Mountain Men’._

He remembered proudly boasting how he would get Monty to cook them up some of his famous moonshine, how they would get Raven to fix them up something remotely _resembling_ speakers and connect her Ipod to it, show the boring adults and the desolate kids how to have a good time. They would introduce art, music and beauty back into their people and they would be _**happy**_. 

Until Clarke brought the mountain down with _one fucking lever_. 

Yeah. He _still_ wasn’t over that. 

He wasn’t all gung-ho about killing her either, not like he used to be. He saw the look in her eyes when she gripped his shirt and grounded out through teeth that seemed to have been bared for some time now that she was _sorry_ , that she would take it back if she could but that she had no choice and did it for _them_. 

And the thing that halted him from ripping her a new one was the fact she _actually_ believed she had no choice. 

And at first, that was enough to only give him a minute pause before he would skip to burning up that argument more crisp than the Grounders Clarke and Raven burnt in the Ring of Fire. But than he looked deeper. 

She hated herself. Clarke Griffin hated herself. And he thought he might have already known it for sometime now. Self loathing sweltered up in her eyes like a fever, turning blue into glass that had stared at him all the while staring through him. Like when she growled at him, it wasn’t the first time. It was like the brief, tense exchange had been an exchange that Clarke had partaken in too many times before and it struck him – how long had she been alive for? 

What more was there to know about this future she survived in? 

And had she already served the sentence he had charged her with in one lifetime already? 

Jasper honestly didn’t know. But he wanted to find out. 

A small piece of him, that tinsy, tiny miniature part of him that was still that boy he was when he first stepped foot outside the dropship wanted to believe her. That Clarke _tried_. That she tried _everything_ before making that fatal decision. That she cried when she did it. That cursed the Wallace name from there to kingdom come as she brought down the lever, brought down the mountain. 

That she was, and had always been, the girl he had once believed in so fiercely. 

Jasper was angry, not dumb. Clarke had once been the girl who went out the day after he was taken by Grounders to get him back, despite having seen the spear protruding from his chest. All because of a single scream. 

Clarke had been the girl who defended him, from Bellamy, from Murphy, from **_everybody_** that had rather he **_died_** than have him scream his head off through the night just because they wanted a decent sleep. She nursed him back from the brink of death, she held his hand and smiled at his jokes and she was the leader he backed up when things got tough. 

He wanted to believe that was now the girl who he had woken up to, the girl who had schemed with him on their way down on the dropship, who had planned to escape into the wilderness to escape the destructive society that forced them to play war, who had fought the guards so they could escape. 

He wanted to believe it so badly that he just might have forgot his anger for a brief moment to call her ‘Princess’, like so many others did, like _he_ did after they returned from Mount Weather – just without the pure venom in his tone. 

And he didn’t know if she noticed it or not, but it shocked the living hell out of him. 

It even shocked him when she left _him_ , of all people, in charge. 

“Jasper!” Jessica groaned from behind him, her blonde head bumping into his shoulder to get his attention, “How much fucking longer do we have to walk?” 

Jess used to man a post on the perimeter of the camp, usually with Harper. In fact, he remembered on Unity Day, before he trekked out to follow Clarke and Finn, the two had bested him and Monty in beer pong – _or Moonshine pong, if we wanted to be politically correct_ – the two girls slinging an arm over one another’s shoulders as they declared the two boys would be taking over their guard duty the next day. 

He honestly didn’t mind at the time, taking it all in stride with an easy going smile and a knowing nod as he teased Jess about how Bellamy wouldn’t like it, knowing the blonde had a crush on him. But that didn’t faze him. Who didn’t have a crush on the older, more attractive, more dangerous of the criminals in their camp? 

Their leader. 

His friend. 

_“May we meet again.”_

_“We won’t.”_

_He felt **so** certain that would be the last thing he would say to him. A certainty that was defined by the firm tone and the dead look in his eyes as Bellamy Blake had sought out any possible hope Jasper might have possessed – a hope that died with Maya the day Mount Weather was defeated._

_But than his friend looked at him with a weak, teary smile as he declared in a voice long lost to the horrors and unspeakable acts he committed._

_“Whatever the hell we want.”_

Bellamy Blake. He wondered if his old friend had survived for as long as his partner did. 

Who was he kidding? As long as Clarke Griffin survived, she would have willed Bellamy Blake to survive alongside her. And vice versa. The two had been living on each other’s air long before it was tainted by the massive increase of radiation that Praimfiya brought alongside it. 

_They better have gotten over the sticks up their asses and just got busy with it._

“Jasper?” 

_Like, it’s been a long time coming and I’m gonna be pissed if they didn’t get over that pent-up aggression they used to kill people in order to seek other outlets for their frustrations. Like banging the shit out of each other._

“ _Jasper?_ ” 

_If they didn’t have at least one kid, I’m gonna riot. **RIOT**._

“ **Jasper!** ” 

The boy jerked to a stop, shaking his head to clear his thoughts as he turned to face the whining girl sharply, “Yeah, what?” 

“Break. Need a fucking break.” 

“Are you kidding me, people?” he exclaimed incredulously, throwing his hands up as he whipped his head to look at the group of panting teenagers with brows high on his forehead as he asked, “We just _came back to life_ and a little trek is where you draw the line? You had years of goddamn rest, stop being lazy and live a little!” 

“Scream a **little louder, Jordan, I don’t think the Grounders heard you,” a new voice drawled out sarcastically from behind him.**

****

The other kids all flinched back, getting into attack stances as they had yet to identify the startling familiar voice. But Jasper did. And Jasper grinned wryly. 

****

“Of course, _you_ would be the first person we bump into out here,” the boy with the goggles announced with a nod, spinning around to watch the newcomers walk out from the trees with smirks and grins soon echoed by Jasper’s own group, “But then again, if anyone has psychotic level issues with authority, it'd be you guys.” 

****

John Murphy cracked a crooked grin, his face clean of the marks and scrapes he wore last time he saw him but the shit eating grin – that never changed as he shrugged, “What can I say? We like our freedom.” 

****

“Ditto.” 

****

Jasper turned his attention to the others in Murphy’s group, his grin widening excitedly when he caught sight of Roma and Monroe, before his eyes caught sight of the other red head in their group. At the sight of the girl, he sprang forward with his arms opened wide and his smile wider. If there were tears in his eyes, he didn’t particularly care when Fox ran up to him and wrapped her skinny arms around his shoulders, laughing softly to herself as he brought her up in a tight hug. 

****

“I can’t fucking believe this, I can’t fucking believe this,” Jasper muttered in amazement as he pulled back to look her in her doe-brown eyes, “I can’t fucking believe this is real. Last time I saw you – “ 

****

“I know, Jasp, I know.” 

****

“I’m so sorry, we should have come for you – “ 

****

“Jasper,” Fox interrupted him again, firmer this time in a tone he had never heard her take with him – or anyone else for that matter. In fact, it was probably the loudest that his soft-spoken friend ever spoke. His eyes widened at the determination and fierceness that stared back at him as she continued, “I died but it wasn’t your fault. And it doesn’t matter now.” 

****

Fox pulled back out of his arms to stand on her own, the once shy and timid girl now standing with a strength that rivalled that of girl’s she used to look up to like Monroe or Octavia or Clarke as she turned to the deliquients – her friends – on both sides as she announced, “We all died. We all fucked up in our last life. But that doesn’t matter now. This is the chance to make up for our wrongs and the wrongs committed against us. We are alive and we will not only survive this time, we will _live_. And we will fucking _**thrive!”**_

**_****_ **

Throwing her fist up in the air, she stood as tall as her short height could let her as the kids around them roared, throwing up their own fists. Jasper met the girl’s eyes, his own warm with pride. Her death had weighed heavily on him, just like the deaths of all the souls that had been trapped in that mountain – whether they were Mountain Men or the hundred. To see her like this now, not only alive but _fiery_ – it was like realizing for the first time that this was happening. That his words to Clarke weren’t just mere words but an actual spirit that would fuel their raw and renewed souls and motivate them to make the most of their second chance. Fox’s speech was like the ultra-genius love child of Bellamy’s ‘Whatever the Hell We Want’ and his own little brand of ‘Survive But Live’ and _he **loved** it_. 

**_****_ **

Murphy and him approached her at the same time, stopping at first to stare at each other in hesitance before continuing to face their friends. Murphy shot the red headed girl a grin, one that Fox returned in kind – another thing that shocked the living hell out of Jasper but something he wasn’t averse to enough to question – before the boy declared in a loud voice. 

**_****_ **

“We all agree that we can’t go back to Arkadia. Knowing what we do know, we can’t let the Ark silence us, push us down to the bottom of the runger and reduce us to work labor when there’s shit going on that they don’t have a clue about. Someone once told me to do better – and I know what you’re going to say,” Murphy shot a dry look at a group of girls who giggled at the absurd idea of Murphy doing anything _good_ , let alone _**better**_ before telling them, “But I survived you all. I survived _every single fucking person_ in this group. And I don’t want to be the fucking cockroach again. So, listen when I tell you that we all have to stop dicking around and get our shit in gear. We are not losing anyone to the Grounders, to the Mountain or to anything beyond that – not even each other.” 

**_****_ **

“That’s a bit hypocritical, Murphy, considering you murdered more people than all of us here combined,” Bek Yaxley chuckled humorlessly, crossing his muscular arms over his chest. 

**_****_ **

Murphy was about to shoot back something snarky when he stopped, considering the boy for a moment with a look of shock before a flash of realization crossed his face. Jasper had never seen the boy so shocked in his life, except for the time Jasper caught him suffocating Myles to death. 

**_****_ **

_Yeah, this is going to go well._

**_****_ **

“Yaxley?” Jasper heard Murphy mutter as he charged forward, “Where’s – ?” 

**_****_ **

“ _Murphy?_ ” 

**_****_ **

A feminine voice called out cautiously, strong, and clear despite it’s gentle tone. Aslynn Whelan stalked forward, pushing her way through the crowd to stand beside her boyfriend as she took in the boy standing across from her. 

**_****_ **

Murphy and Aslynn stared at each other in silence while everyone exchanged shrugs, sharing their confusion. It grew to gasps of shock when the twin smirks appeared on their faces before they charged forward, bodies clashing as they enveloped each other into a bone crushing hug. 

**_****_ **

“Fucking _knew_ you’d show up any minute,” he heard the dirty blonde-haired girl tell the boy. 

**_****_ **

Murphy’s lips quirked up – _oh my God, is that a **genuine** smile?_ – before he muttered back, “Yeah, I told him the first thing you’d do would be to wander the woods like a goddamn Grounder.” 

**_****_ **

Aslynn moved fast, jerking back harshly and into Bek’s waiting arms as she narrowed her green eyes at Murphy as she grounded out, “ _ **Who?**_ ” 

**_****_ **

“I doubled back to call it in on the radio, kid, but - “ 

**_****_ **

Everybody gasped as a man stumbled out of the thick woods, panting slightly with his grizzled cheeks red and puffed out. He couldn’t be older than fifty, his blonde hair only just starting to face and cut short to his head in a common military style. His sharp hazel eyes took in the surround kids, light brows furrowing in confusion before he looked down at what they were all staring at so apprehensively. 

**_****_ **

The patch on his shirt. The one declaring him an Ark guardsman. 

**_****_ **

The people from Jasper’s group quickly reacted, raising their makeshift weapons – consisting of long, thick sticks and branches they had picked up on the way – while Jasper himself merely tightened his grip on the black baton in his right hand, his left sliding back to hover over the gun in his waistband. 

**_****_ **

Before anyone could make a move against the man, Murphy quickly jumped back with his hands held up as he yelled out, “ _Stand down_! He’s a goodie.” 

**_****_ **

“ _He's_ my uncle,” Aslynn’s voice announced quietly as she walked forward, everybody freezing up at her words to consider them both incredulously. The blonde girl tilted her head back as she came to a stop in front of the older man and Jasper realized just how strange this would seem to the girl. 

**_****_ **

She had just come back from the dead mere hours ago. The last time she was alive – if memory served his correctly – was back in Mount Weather, having been taken in for bone marrow harvesting before they could escape and return to their people waiting back in Arkadia. That meant that while this guardsman might have seen his niece – _not gonna question the obvious mindfuck **that** family situation was_ \- just before they launched (or their last Visiting Day whenever that was for them), for Aslynn, she hadn’t seen the man in over a month, maybe more. 

**_****_ **

She died before she could see her family. She died before she could see their people on the ground. She died and this man had no idea as he met her stare with a slight raise of his brow. It was some kind of weird, family stare off thing that Jasper wouldn't want to interrupt if it weren't for the fact that they had to get to the Arts supply store to meet up with Clarke and it would be a few hours before they would reach the small underground bunker – 

**_****_ **

“You’re hair looks nice. Longer.” 

**_****_ **

Aslynn merely blinked at the man’s statement before retorting with a slight eyeroll, “Yeah, well, didn’t get to the point of crazy where I wanted to shave my head but it was a close call.” 

**_****_ **

Despite the seemingly casual tone she dressed her words in, Jasper could see the relief and excitement at seeing someone she knew, someone she knew before the Mountain, before the ground, before she died. It was all in her eyes as she stared up at the man, who’s lips quirked slightly at her attitude. 

**_****_ **

“Smart ass,” the guardsman muttered affectionately before wrapping the girl up in a bear hug, whispering loud enough for them all to hear, “Couldn’t stay put, could you, girl?” 

**_****_ **

“Don’t call me girl,” Aslynn scoffed, pushing the man’s chest back a bit to make some space between them before asking, “Why are you here?” 

**_****_ **

“To take you back to Alpha.” 

**_****_ **

“Not happening.” 

**_****_ **

Murphy coughed loudly from behind the two, “ _Called it_.” 

**_****_ **

The man’s jaw clenched in a way that had Jasper on the edge as he growled out, “It’s not up for _discussion_ , Aslynn. It’s not safe out here. You need to come back with me, you _all_ do.” 

**_****_ **

The blonde girl did not relent in the determined jutt of her jaw as she insisted, “It’s you who isn’t safe out here, Deck.” 

**_****_ **

“What the **_hell_** is going on here? First, this little twerp talks and acts like he knows everything there is to know about Earth,” the man – Deck – started incredulously, pointing an accusing finger at Murphy, who shrugged, “Now, you’re starting in on that nonsense too?” 

**_****_ **

“I’m not going back. No one here is. And there’s nothing you can say that can change out minds,” Aslynn told her uncle, green eyes softening slightly as she added pleadingly, “But you can come with us.” 

**_****_ **

Protests broke out from Jasper’s group, shouting about how the guardsman couldn’t be trusted and how he would sell them out in a heartbeat before Jasper shut them up by declaring, “He won’t turn us in.” 

**_****_ **

“What makes you so sure?” someone yelled out – _probably Brad, it sounded like that tool_. 

**_****_ **

“Um, were you there when Clarke took down those two guards back at the dropship?” Jasper snorted, raising a brow at the crowd behind him before he pointed out, “That was with her _bare hands_ – what do you think she’s capable of with a gun and a whole bunch of semi-armed delinquents? And for those that survived Mount Weather, did you all forget what the _Grounders_ used to call her?” 

**_****_ **

“Wanheda!” someone cried from the back, a triumphant and proud sound that contrasted sharply with the fear tinged whispers the word was most commonly heard in, “The Commander of Death.” 

**_****_ **

“ _Exactly_ ,” he pointed in the direction of the sound, eyes squinting slightly as he tried to make out who said it before waving it away to get on with his point, “Clarke brought **fear** to the _Grounders_ , the people we used to be shit scared of! If she makes the Grounders scared, what kind of fear do you think she can instill into a _guardsman?!_ ” 

**_****_ **

Jasper turned back to look at them all, his and Murphy’s group, making sure to lock eyes with the said guardsman as he announced, “Clarke has gone to get the rest of the friends. She told me to lead us all to shelter, a bunker we used to use when we were caught in acid fog or on the run from Grounders. Some of you know it, some of you don’t. But we’re all heading there, and if we want to make it before nightfall, we should stop talking about it and _start walking!_ ” 

**_****_ **

And it was just after the last word, that they heard _**it**_. 

**_****_ **

A long sound of a horn being blown. 

**_****_ **

Jasper met Murphy’s eyes over Aslynn’s blonde hair, dreaded expressions mirroring each other as they turned away to stare in the direction of the sound. 

**_****_ **

“Acid Fog,” Murphy shouted before taking off in the opposite direction, " _ **FUCKING RUN!**_ ” 

**_****_ **

Not even a second later, thirty-two people took off after him. 

**_****_ **

\- 

**_****_ **

#### CLARKE GRIFFIN

**_****_ **

**_****_ **

Clarke had to admit, that no place, no feeling, nothing could compare to being on Earth again, as the planet had once been. Not even Sanctum with it’s exotic colors and it’s permanent haze could live up to Earth. Not when was it was so flush, so _**green**_. Walking down the mountain that they had once again been dropped on, she took the time to take it all in like she was seeing it for the first time. 

**_****_ **

And in a way, she was. 

**_****_ **

But now she considered the land around her like an old friend, smiling wistfully as she trekked down at a distance after the Ark guardsman, Sargent Miller striding with cautious purpose through the wilderness. Clarke was a bit impressed that they adjusted so quickly, having missed the Ark’s landing the first time around. They seemed to be prepared, having already transported the citizens into the direction Alpha landed without much consequence. 

**_****_ **

Although, she wouldn’t have thought they would, not so early. The hundred didn’t have their first contact with the Grounders until her, Finn, Octavia, Jasper and Monty went out on the trip to Mount Weather, unaware of the dangers surrounding them. The moment of realization being when that spear flew through the air and impaled Jasper. Clarke, to this day, or she guessed, to this same day in another life, did not know how he was so lucky as to survive it. The fact he overcome the trauma alone was miraculous. 

**_****_ **

_Then again, it didn’t take long until another kind of pain settled in. A **pain** you caused._

**_****_ **

Clarke inhaled sharply at the vicious thought. Despite having worked alongside him, exchanging witty banter and nostalgic smiles just a mere hour ago, she didn’t expect to be forgiven anytime soon. While Jasper might have preached about having a second chance at this life, she wasn’t oblivious to the tension in his shoulders when she told him her plan nor did she miss the way his eyes darkened when she fought off the guardsmen. 

**_****_ **

_“We’re getting off to a great start on the whole ‘not repeating mistakes, we’re good now’."_

**_****_ **

It was said in jest, but his tone did not meet his amused words. His jaw was clenched when he muttered into her ear, his dramatic gestures doing little to hide the annoyance in his voice. The bitterness that was familiar to her in a way that disappointment was familiar to a child coming back home to their parents after taking a course in life away from their family's expectations. 

**_****_ **

_I wonder how my mother will feel about my actions, would she feel disappointment?_

**_****_ **

And that’s when it hit her. 

**_****_ **

_Her_ mother. 

**_****_ **

Her motherfucking mother was _alive_. 

**_****_ **

_Abby Griffin_ was alive in this time, in this place, in this world that she and her friends had somehow came back to. 

**_****_ **

It hit her. It hit her **_hard_**. 

**_****_ **

Sargent Miller had just put up his hand to stop his group for a break when Clarke’s knees hit the ground, chest meeting the rough bark of a tree trunk harshly as her breathe shuddered in her lungs. How could she forget? How could she run away from her mother, from Kane, from Jaha, from everyone who was gone? They were alive, back on Earth – a planet running out of time even as she strolled through the woods. 

**_****_ **

_It’s whats best for all of them, Clarke. They are not the people that you knew, that you remember. They’re a people from a time long gone, stuck in ways long demolished._

**_****_ **

To her and the Deliquients, this was a second chance to fix everything they did in the name of survival. Every sin, every kill, every war and every life that has now returned. For the adults, though, Earth has been what it has always been to the Ark. A chance to save the human race, _**no matter the cost**_. 

**_****_ **

Even if it means sinning, killing, warring and taking lives and using them for the greater good. 

**_****_ **

The adults wouldn’t listen to her, to any of them who remembered what they did wrong. They would rather see them caged, see them killed than see them in any place of power or place of being right. Even her mother, who stood by her decision to float her father for the _greater fucking good._

**_****_ **

Despite the fact that she wanted to see her mother more than anything, to look into her brown eyes and know that it was _her_ staring back, she knew that she had to make sure she had a mother to come back to. Which means, in order to establish peace with the dangers the ground had to offer, she had to establish herself, and her friends, as independent and forward thinking people who were willing to sought for peace rather than to make actions of war. 

**_****_ **

_You have to do this, Clarke. Abby doesn’t know what she’s doing. Neither does Kane or Jaha or any of them._

**_****_ **

_My people, my responsibility._

**_****_ **

She heard Sargent Miller shout for them to continue on and used the support of the unyielding tree trunk to get to wobbly feet, swallowing back her tears, back her cries, and back anything that would jeopardize the plans she made, the plans she and Jasper made. 

**_****_ **

He would never forgive her if she went back on her word again. If she betrayed him, and all the others, again. 

**_****_ **

Clarke shook her head free of any kind of delusion about living in peace with her mother for the rest of her life. There wouldn’t be peace, not for a while – they had too much to do. And her mother would never see her as an equal, now that Clarke and the rest of the hundred had been stripped of any chance to prove themselves in this alternate reality where they weren’t sent to the ground alone and hadn’t survived along for a month before the rest of the Ark joined. 

**_****_ **

The Ark would never believe in them as possessing any knowledge of the meaning of peace or war or death or life. Because the Ark didn’t know that they had been through it all already. Fragile peace, non-stop conflict, constant death and a second chance at a life they had already lived. 

**_****_ **

The ground levelled out beneath her feet, signaling that her trek down the mountain had come to an end and things would get significantly more dangerous the closer they travelled to Mount Weather. If it was the same as last time, Alpha station should have landed not too far from the lake and on the opposite side of Mount Weather. Which meant that she had to make sure that Sargent Miller and his group didn’t stray too close to the invisible border that Jasper himself had crossed so long ago. 

**_****_ **

She didn’t think they would possess the same luck the boy did that day. If a spear came at them, it _would_ meet it’s mark. 

**_****_ **

Clarke made to continue after them when a strange sensation gripped her suddenly, akin to the wistfulness she lost herself in on her trip down. Turning around slowly to stare back up the side of the mountain where the dropship sat, a sense of protectiveness over the land came over her. A sense to make it known that this mountain was _theirs_ , the delinquents, from another life. 

**_****_ **

It was a home that they left behind at the chance of going back to familiar faces, a familiar place and familiar order after the hell that was the Mountain. But this time, this time she knew what home was really like. It was the original camp, where her, Bellamy and their delinquents all lived and worked together to build a semi-decent home that no Grounder – except Lincoln and the three hundred that died in the Ring of Fire – ever invaded. It wasn’t perfect, but it was something they could call completely theirs. And it would be theirs once more. 

**_****_ **

The order had been in a disarray for a while now, where she once had a strong heart to level out her cautious mind. Bellamy was always the heart to her head, and it gave them a sense of responsibility over their respective methods and approaches to a situation or feeling. But before he and Spacekru came down from the Ring, when it was just her and Madi, she had to rely on her own heart, her own wildness and strength to make up for his loss. 

**_****_ **

And it was that heart that beat again inside her as she considered the stone wall she faced, a hint of the complex cave system beneath, and she smiled. When she approached the slab, she didn’t think of it as something she herself would ever thing of doing. The implication alone could ruin any sort of peace that she had in mind with the Grounders, but it was something that sounded better and better by the minute. 

**_****_ **

It sounded awfully a lot like what Bellamy would have done back in the early days of the camp, when they were ruled by ‘Whatever the Hell We Want’. While she was definently not supportive of that mindset, it gave her a rush to think of them all back then. As teenagers, children with blood rushing through their veins and always, on what seemed, like an adrenaline high. Clarke thought that it was with Bellamy’s heart, that she picked up a stone from the ground and began etching the sigil on the wall, the image having flashed into her mind when she had first faced the mountain she had already declared theirs. 

**_****_ **

With sweat dripping down the back of her shirt, perspiration soaking her hair line and face red from the amount of force she put behind the rock, she stepped back to look upon the slab. And she smiled, muttering words in a language that she wasn’t supposed to know from a time that might probably never be. 

**_****_ **

“Ai laik Klark kom Skairaizkru.” _(I am Clarke from the Sky Rebel People.)_

**_****_ **

And as if in response to her daring claim, the sky rumbled, and a horn sounded out.

**_****_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Just remember to stay safe. stay healthy. stay aware! These are dire times and I will continue to offer support however I can. 
> 
> Lots of love from AUS,  
> Lou  
> xoxo


	4. Bellamy Blake: We Come Running.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Sir, please be quiet. Everything is okay, we have landed just fine,” a masculine voice told him.
> 
> Bellamy could hear chatter, reverberating strangely around him but he couldn’t see anything. Nothing useful anyway, just a blur of dark shades and glimpses of light. Salty tears burned at his eyes, blinking them back the best he could but giving up as soon as he realized how useless it was. 
> 
> He just watched his sister – _his **sister**_ – die in his arms. 
> 
> Everything was no fucking okay, nothing was ever going to be fine again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- The chapter is from the song by Youngblood Hawkes with the same name "We Come Running."  
> \- I hope you enjoy this chapter and as always, all feedback, suggestions and criticism is welcome and deeply appreciated!

“ **OCTAVIA!** ” 

Bellamy Blake lunged up, an inhumane scream retching from his throat and echoing in his ears long after his voice grew hoarse. 

Someone slapped a hand over his mouth, silencing his shuttering gasps and his eyes flew open wide in panic. 

_Who is it? Echo? Gabriel?_

“Sir, please be quiet. Everything is okay, we have landed just fine,” a masculine voice told him. 

Bellamy could hear chatter, reverberating strangely around him but he couldn’t see anything. Nothing useful anyway, just a blur of dark shades and glimpses of light. Salty tears burned at his eyes, blinking them back the best he could but giving up as soon as he realized how useless it was. 

He just watched his sister – _his **sister**_ – die in his arms. 

Everything was no fucking okay, nothing was ever going to be fine again. 

“My brother’s in shock. Just give him some space to breathe, yeah?” 

Time stood still. 

The time he was content to let slip by spent in grievous despair stopped at the sound of her voice. 

“Bellamy, can you hear me?” 

_No, no, no, no, no._

How is this happening right now? 

“Bell? Bell, I need you to listen to me right now.” 

_How can I listen when this is impossible?_

Turning his head to the side slowly, as if moving a second faster could ruin the illusion, he squinted through the tears at the person by his side. It was dark – one thing was startling clear in his wreckage of a mind, they weren’t in Gabriel’s tent anymore nor were they in the forest – but he could still make out her features, even if his vision was blurred with tears. 

Dark, mahogany strands of hair ran straight down her shoulders, longer than he had last seen it, her angular face with the button nose and small cleft in her chin. And those eyes, bright teal eyes, stared back at him with a mixture of relief and impatience when she saw that he was looking at her, listening to her. 

Aware that _she_ was there. 

Octavia Blake shook her head at him, smiling slightly as she told him in a rush, “Good, you can hear me. Now, hurry up.” 

Blinking erratically at her in shock, he watched her in silence as his sister – the girl he _literally_ saw die in his arms from a knife to her stomach on a few seconds ago – rocked back in her chair, using the momentum to cut at the bright red bindings on her wrist that restrained her arms to that of the chair she sat in. 

She let out a hard grunt as she put in more force behind her task, muttering out a mild curse when her skin caught between a gap in the metal and tore at it, blood seeping through the small wound on her arm. Octavia didn’t flinch though, displaying no hesitance as she continued her rocking while Bellamy tried to wrap his head around the fact that she shouldn’t be rocking, cursing, muttering, grunting or anything with an ‘ing’. ‘Ing’ meant you were alive to being doing something. 

Dead people didn’t ‘ _Ing_ ’. 

“I saw you die.” 

He didn’t mean to utter it out loud. He didn’t even realize he did until his sister froze up in the chair beside him and whispered slightly under voice, “I know, Bell. But that was then and this is _now_. If you look around you will realize how very fucking different now is.” 

“I saw you die,” he repeated, not fully comprehending what she had just told him as he studied her in awe. 

There was no blood on her stomach, no trauma, no signs of pain or strain in her body or face. 

How did she recover so quickly? How did she – how did she survive the knife wound? 

“ _Bellamy_ ,” Octavia groaned when she noticed he had started to space out again, wiggling her chair a bit to slam against his hard enough to bring him back to attention, “Bell, we need to go. _**Now**_.” 

“Go where?” he asked confused, shaking his head as he frowned at her. 

_Where are we? What is this place? Where’s Echo? Shit, what happened?_

“Bell, Bell, I need you to listen to me _**right now**_ ,” his sister growled out, banging her chair into his again as she told him, “Bell, I don’t know what happened exactly but we’re not on Sanctum anymore. We’re not – “ 

“Not on Sanctum?” he muttered incredulously, head aching in the mad daze he had been in as he asked her, “If we’re not – not on Sanctum, then – then where the hell are we?” 

“ _Earth_ , Bell,” responded the girl who was partially responsible for the said planet’s destruction, “We just landed back on Earth. 

\- 

There were many times of late that his sisters words had hit him as words of the certifiably insane but none more so than the words she had uttered before continuing at her binds as if they were a remark on the weather or a passing thought. 

But no, her words were that of a liar too. 

If there was one thing Blodreina had for her, it was the she at least believed in some modicum of the nonsense she once preached to her followers. But even Blodreina had her limit of insanity when she was the one who literally ruined the planet she just claimed to have been dropped back on. 

“I can’t believe this,” he scoffed, slumping back in his seat as his breathe left him in one go. 

“I couldn't believe it either when I first woke up. But there’s people, Bell, in here – and they look – “ 

“I can’t believe _**you**_ ,” Bellamy emphasized accusingly, shooting her a fierce glare as he continued, “What the **_hell_** is wrong with you? What the hell happened? You got _stabbed_ , O, you didn’t get brain damage. What the fuck is happening and where the fuck have you taken us?” 

“ _Taken you?_ ” she frowned at him in disbelief, quickly moving on to sneer at him in anger as she jerked her head at her restrained wrists fighting against the bonds around them in emphasis, “If you take a fucking look around you, brother, you’ll see that I’m not in any position to have taken us _anywhere_. You would also fucking notice we’re obviously not in Sanctum anymore – hell, I don’t even know what point in time this is anymore – “ 

The last bit was muttered more to herself than to him, but he caught it anyway. Bellamy groaned internally, half from frustration, a quarter from crushing disappointment that his sister hadn’t actually changed like she insisted she had and the last quarter contributing to a bit of relief that even if she was still spewing bullshit, she was still alive to do so. 

No matter how fucking unbelievable it was. 

“Octavia, tell me where we are. **Right now**.” 

“I already told you. We’re on Earth.” 

“You know more than anyone that Earth is gone. _You_ saw to that.” 

He saw her go still at that, eyes flashing with fierce emotion. Guilt. Regret. Shame. 

It was gone as soon as it came before she settled on determination as she told him, “Well, not to burst your bubble, but we’re on Earth. But the where isn’t important, it’s the when we need to worry about.” 

_The when? What the fuck does she mean by the when?_

He asked as much, inhaling sharply as her bright eyes, so youthful in their appearance despite the age in their depths as they darted around their surroundings in a pointed pattern before telling him, “Look around. What do you see?” 

He did as she asked, shooting her a suspicious look before turning around in his seat beside her. His tears had dried, his vision had returned and was now hazed in confusion as his brain tried to process what he was seeing. It was impossible, it was too impossible to describe but his heart beat loudly in his chest, telling him to ignore the impossibility because this was too impossible not to be real. 

They were in an Ark dropship. 

“What is this?” Bellamy breathed out, immediately tensing up as he turned to Octavia with fear in his eyes, “What is this?” 

“I’m not a scientist, Bell, but even I’m smart enough to know where we are. What we’re _in_ right now. But like I said, you need to open your eyes and look past that to see that it’s the _when_ that's the big question here.” 

“What do you mean – “ 

“Goddammit, Bellamy, look at the people in here with us!” Octavia whispered harshly, jerking her head over her shoulder. 

He looked beyond her and flinched back in shock. 

It was like staring at a faded picture that you took years ago, and the memories of that day were tickling the edge of your mind as if trying to dredge up something important. That was what it was like staring at the people before them, all sitting in their seats with exhilaration alive in their eyes. There were people, young and old, sitting around in this ancient relic from literal centuries ago that should not be anywhere near him and Octavia – that they shouldn’t have found themselves in. 

“Okay, I can see you're still confused but we don’t have time for that. We have to leave. _**Right fucking now**_.” 

He didn’t question her, none of this was sitting right with him either. For all her faults, Octavia was right. They needed to get out of whatever mindfuck this was. Was it the Primes? Clarke did say that when Josephine was inside her mind, she made her see things from the past. She also told him that she would conjure up people and places that would help her conscious mind try to fight against the Prime. 

But how? If that were true, when the fuck would the Primes have time to get inside his head? 

Gabriel? He hated the Primes as much as they did – he wouldn’t give them up to a man he detested. 

Or would he? Maybe those parting last words from his ex-girlfriend made him rethink his revenge agenda. 

Bellamy couldn’t blame him. He already proven the lengths he would go for – 

_No. Don’t pursue that thought. It will lead you to places you're in no position to go to._

“Bellamy, I **need** you with me on this. There’s – and I can’t believe I’m saying this – guardsmen everywhere in this place and we can’t make it past them unless we work together.” 

He didn’t fully understand what she said until he saw it for himself. There, in the corner, was a man in a black jumpsuit, the patch on his vest more threatening than the long, black metal he clutched with both hands. An Ark guardsman. 

And he recognized him. 

Shumway. 

_That **bastard**._

“Get out of my head!” Bellamy seethed, thrashing in his seat as he snapped his jaws in the direction of the man, “You’re not my fucking sister. Don’t **_ever_** use her to get to me like that again.” 

“Bellamy?” she – whoever the fuck was using _her_ face against him – frowned at him, before she turned in the direction of the guardsman he was glaring at before realization came across her face, “Bellamy, stop. **_Stop_**.” 

“You don’t get to tell me what to do, _**Prime**_. Which one are you? Russell? Or is that you Gabriel? Face me, you prick.” 

“Bellamy, shut the fuck up,” the imposter groaned loudly, slamming back into her seat with a grunt – a move that was typical for the child version of the face the Prime wore, a move that tore at his heartstrings. 

“Show yourself.” 

“Bell, it’s _me_. It’s Octavia. It's your sister.” 

“My sister’s dead.” 

“ _Oh my God_ , it’s like talking to a brick wall. There’s no more Primes - not where we are, anyway.” 

“Cut the crap and tell me what you want.” 

“I want you to _help_ me get out of here.” 

“Out of my head? I thought it was pretty easy for you people. Josephine seemed to know her way around Clarke’s pretty well.” 

The imposter shook their head at him, his sister’s eyes glaring at him as they growled out, “I’m not a fucking Prime, Bell. We need to get out of here.” 

“Tell me something only Octavia would know.” 

They - she - he - whoever the fuck they were - slumped back into their seats, eyes warily darting between his as they seemed to consider him carefully before whispering, “The first day on the ground, I went with Clarke, Finn, Jasper and Monty on the trip to Mount Weather. We saw a two-headed deer, the first animal I ever saw in my life. At the first sight of water, I took off my clothes and hoped in. The others were going to join me when something snatched me and pulled me down. The others told me that it looked like a giant snake. If it weren’t for Jasper, I would be dead. I still have the scars on my leg.” 

She tapped her thigh gently but a sadness passed through her eyes as she muttered, “At least I did.” 

Octavia shook her head clear of whatever transpired in her mind before she continued, “We continued on to the boundary, a creek that separated Trikru territory from that of the Mountain Men. Finn pulled out a vine and was going to cross first when Jasper volunteered. It was the happiest day of my life and it ended with a spear in Jasper’s chest. We began to run through the woods back to camp when we heard Jasper scream out. That's how we knew he was still alive.” 

It was her. Even a Prime couldn’t make up details like the two-headed deer or Jasper crossing the creek on a vine. Hell, even _he_ didn’t know those details, but they sounded like the Delinquents he used to know, Delinquents that not even the Primes could conjure up against him. Delinquents he wouldn’t have conjured up himself. No, if the people she told in her story showed up in his mind – they would be very different people from the kids that ran out whooping and cheering from the dropship on their first day on Earth. 

Bellamy slouched where he sat in his chair, shaking his head at her as he looked around, “How the hell are we here right now?” 

“I don’t know but something tells me that if we stay here – _especially_ me – we’re not gonna like what we find.” 

With that, they continued at their bindings in silence, Bellamy shooting murderous glances at the guardsman smirking at him. Leaning in slightly as his sister bucked against the belt around her in frustration, he whispered, “You can see – you can see him right?” 

Octavia looked over at the man staring at them before sighing heavily with a slight curl to her upper lip, “Relax, Bell. You’re not going crazy. Neither of us are. I can’t explain it right now but if you see anyone that makes you think you’re going crazy, you’re not. They’re real, they’re here and before you ask – no, I don’t know how or why. But we’re not gonna get answers if we stay here.” 

Bellamy shot one last glare at the guardsman before turning to face her with a solemn expression, but he was unable to hide the surge of fierce, youthful determination behind his eyes as he asked in a low voice, “What’s the plan?” 

\- 

“Your plan _**sucks**_ ,” he growled under his breathe, spitting out blood from a mouth split by callous fists. 

**CRUNCH.**

“ **FUCK!** ” 

“Shut the fuck up!” Shumway cackled down at him, drawing his fist back while shaking him with the other that was currently gripping his collar, “I said, _**shut the fuck up!**_ ” 

“ _Go float yourself!_ ” Bellamy roared back, blood and saliva dripping down his jaw. 

He didn’t bother getting off the ground, knowing he would just be shoved down. His knees were scrapped, red raw from the thirteen times they were forced to hit the dropship floor **_hard_**. Besides, he needed to be there. The plan _counted_ on him being on his knees. 

What he didn’t understand, was why the plan had to count on him getting his face bashed in by the guy who tried to ruin his life. Key word: _Tried_. He didn’t succeed. He didn’t like the idea of doing the guy any favors in this life and wondered how adverse everyone would be if he could just spread the word about the traitorous bastard roaming the mists of Arkadia. 

_Maybe if I tell Jaha about the traitors, he’ll let the Hundred off scot – free._

Yeah, right. Like that would ever happen. Maybe in their past life, in his attempts of redemption for bring ALLIE upon him, but not in whatever time they were in now. No, Jaha would still be that dickhead Chancellor, only out to save himself. 

“You think you’re tough shit, boy?” the guardman hissed, spit landing on his nose and mouth. 

Gagging internally, Bellamy rolled his eyes over to where his sister was standing between two guardsman, who were so lost in their enjoyment at seeing their superior officer beat the shit out of a mouthy citizen that they didn’t bother holding onto the short, dark haired, slip of a girl. 

_Their first mistake._

The said slip of a girl had years on all of them. The cadets overseeing his personal beating hadn’t seen a lick of violence, of battle, of war. The entire concept was foreign to these _children_ , these absolute newborn babes. Their faces were clean, their hands too. Bellamy bet that they wouldn’t last one minute in an actual battle. _This_ , this _beating_ , would be the closest they would ever get to seeing violence without seeing it upon themselves. And his sister, whose names of war and power were numerous, took advantage of their childish distraction, kaleidoscope eyes narrowed on the weapons strapped to their utility belts that sat low on their hips. Right where anyone could grab them without any of them being none the wiser. 

Bellamy knew his sister was about to make her move and drawled lazily up at the man towered above him, wincing slightly at the sting his smile cost him, “Is that the best you can do, Shumway?” 

“Do you want to die, kid?” 

“I don’t know, do you want to be Diana Sydney’s _bitch_ for life?” 

Shumway’s mouth gaped open in shock, head whipping around as whispers erupted from the crowd surrounding them. Bellamy laughed, a raspy sound that spattered blood down his shirt but it was genuine, he promised. To see this bastard show such weakness, such fear of judgement and prosecution was satisfying some part of him he thought he lost in his six years on the Ring. 

His stubborn, prideful heart. 

It seemed that in his youthful body, all his efforts to tame the passionate organ was undone. And he secretly relished in it’s release, it’s return. In _his_ return. 

Kane had told him, in the days preparing for Praimfaya, of what took place up in the Ark during it’s final days. About the betrayal of Diana Sydney, of the woman blowing up the Hall during the Unity Day Parade. About her slaughter of innocent men, women, and children. About Kane’s own mother, a harmless woman that Bellamy had actually met a couple of times, dying from being hit by debris, her last words being a plead to get them to the ground. Diana Sydney had been the one who came down on the Exodus ship, the one that caused the Grounders to take up war against the Hundred. It was that woman that they had to thank for being the reason they didn’t get reinforcements on the ground sooner. 

It was because of her and her story, that he knew the guardsman’s involvement in the plot to bring down Jaha. In his own manipulated involvement. 

_That’s right, you bastard. I’m gonna float you._

Bellamy’s dark eyes drifted back to his sister, who was inching closer to the gun at the cadet’s belt, one of her other hands rolling on her wrist with one finger extended to signal ‘ _keep em’ coming_ ’. He rolled his eyes before delivering one last line that would keep Shumway’s attention on him _indefinitely_. 

“Hey, Shumway, tell me? What’s it like for one of the _privileged_ to have you by the balls day and night? Haven’t experienced the sensation for myself so I’m kind of curious – “ 

**SMASH. SMASH. SMASH.**

Oh boy, was he too easy. Bellamy didn’t witness it himself, he was too busy trying to breathe through the nose that he was pretty sure was broken, but in the midst of Shumway’s bashing, Octavia had slipped the gun out of the cadet’s sheath and into the back of her trousers before doing the same to the second cadet, both boys too busy with cheering their captain on to notice the weight taken off their hip. 

For a few seconds, all Bellamy could hear was the **CRUNCH, CRUNCH, CRUNCH** sound of his face as knuckles scraped against his nose, his cheekbones, his lips. Face ripped at the seams, Bellamy squinted at the man from an eyes that was turning an ugly shade of purple underneath the blood that seeped down it. Shumway was breathing heavily out of his mouth, nostrils flaring like a snake scenting the blood he shed and wanting to taste it, to taste **_more_**. His eyes were narrowed with predatory focus but in their depths was madness. A craving to feel powerful for once. 

_It made sense, for someone who sold his balls a long time ago, it made sense to want to feel powerful._

But this little tidbit didn’t make Bellamy feel at all bad when he reared up and brought his head crashing into Shumway’s, the guard falling backwards in shock and hitting the ground with his back as he clutched his forehead with a grunt. The two cadets quickly made to help their captain up, so caught up in their own surprise that they didn’t noticed the girl they were supposed to be guarding slide around them to help her brother off the floor, slinging his arm around her neck and helping him over to the dropship door. 

The sound of it opening, that’s what caught their attention. Immediately, Shumway scrambled to his feet, his hands going to his gun at the same time his cadets went for theirs. All three of them came up empty. 

Octavia pulled out the two at her waist, levelling them on the two cadets on either side. Shumway, meanwhile, went deathly pale as Bellamy drew his own stolen handgun from the crook of his arm, standing straighter despite the obvious strain on his knees and legs as he pointed the gun straight at the guardsman’s forehead. 

“Looking for these?” his sister grinned. 

“You – You’re not gonna – “ 

“You’re not gonna shoot that thing, girl,” Shumway groaned, stepping forward as he gestured at the weapon as if they were toys in the hands of a child and not a tool of death in the hands of someone who had dealt in their fair share of mass destruction, “Put it down before you hurt someone.” 

The sound of the safety clicking off stopped the guardsman in his tracks, the man flinching slightly as Octavia cocked her head at him with a daring look as she growled out, “ **Try me**.” 

“I wouldn’t,” Bellamy told the man, as him and his sister started to back away slowly, 

“You’re both crazy,” the man gasped at them, shaking his head in disbelief. 

“I prefer crazy over being a traitor any day of the week,” Bellamy rebutted, ignoring the brief unfathomable look Octavia sent him before he continued on, “We have a message for Jaha and the Council.” 

“Don’t look for us. Don’t follow us. And most importantly, don’t even think about trying to take us back by force. We’re not your fucking sheep anymore. None of us are.” 

“ _Us?_ What the hell are you going on – “ 

A sound in the distance drew their attention, a low, droning instrument that, in it’s familiarity, sent dread slithering down the spine of the Blake siblings as they groaned out in unison. 

“Acid fog.” 

“It’s been fun but we got places to go, people to see – you know the drill,” Octavia told them all with a casual shrug of her shoulders and a slight curl of her lips, despite the tension in her back and the obvious stance of someone about to bolt. 

Bellamy turned to the crowd before jerking his head behind him, “I would suggest staying put until someone comes to get you. That is, if there’s anyone alive after the fog to come for you. Close the doors behind us if you want to live through your first day on Earth!” 

And with that, the brother and sister spun on their heel and headed out into the sunlit forest, quite literally running for their lives as the ground rumbled around them. 

\- 

“Does anything look familiar to you?” Bellamy shouted over the crackling in the air, the ground vibrating under their boots as they sprinted through the woods thick with never-ending trees. 

They had been running for no more than ten minutes, the acid fog gaining as it crashed through the branches behind them. Octavia glanced over her shoulder and saw the green gas roam the forest floor, barely fifty feet away from them. 

She pursured her lips, sweat drenching her hairline before she yelled back between pants, “I know who sounded the horn. If he’s around here, we must be close to the mountain.” 

He didn’t have to question who the ‘ _he_ ’ was that his sister was referring to. It was obvious in the echo of sadness, of love long lost and a heart that had to heal with the cruel passage of time and the call of leadership and responsibility that Praimfaya had thrust upon her. Octavia was only seventeen when she lost the love of her life, when she fought her first battle, when she took the mantle of _Skairipa_ , of _Osleya_ and then of _Blodreina_. Now she was here, in the body of her youth, racing beside him with a freedom that she hadn’t possessed in her posture since their first few days on the ground. Despite the fatal fog swallowing the forest behind them, she had never looked more at ease. 

It brought a smile to his face, a smile that forgone their fractured relationship, their bad blood and the return of old threats as he shot a look at her while yelling, “Reaper caves?” 

“Yep, reaper caves!” 

They increased their pace, still conscious that death raced towards them. 

_Fucking Mountain Men._

Yeah, in this little run through the woods, Bellamy had come to terms that what his sister was saying had some truth to it. You couldn’t run for this long, hurt this bad and ache so heavy and not believe that you were there, in the real world with _real_ problems on your hands. 

_Not even death could wipe my hands of the problems I face._

“How far?” he yelled at her as she veered off to the right, shooting off the track they were on with a purpose that went deeper than instinct. 

It was memory that drove his sister as she pressed harder against the ground, boots thumping loudly as they jumped over rocks and fallen trees, dark shadows flickering through the trees above them that swallowed up their view of the sky that bore them in a great mass of grey. 

_A mountain._

“It should be just up ahead!” Octavia replied, her voice edged in excitement as her own smile tore at her face. 

They shouldn’t be _this_ excited, _this_ upbeat in _this_ situation. But how could they not? It was unlike anything they ever thought possible. How could they be there, on Earth, at the base of a mountain that they, alongside the child prisoners of the Ark, used to call home? 

_**Home** , it’s been a long time since I’ve thought of anything but my family as home._

The Ring had briefly held that title, back when they had to depend on the station in space to survive for six years but it was mostly out of gratitude and a continued hope that it wouldn’t break apart in some freak accident. Maybe, Arkadia, with it’s reminders of a birthplace long gone and a system that still fought to inflict itself upon them, might have held that feeling for a brief moment when he felt he had some power, some place he belonged but it was mostly because he was trying to replicate the feeling he felt when he was at the Dropship. 

The Dropship. _That_ was home. The only home he didn’t have to fear from, at least, not within it’s walls. Even in the midst of criminals, in the open eye of an enemy he didn’t truly understand at the time, it was the only place where he and his sister could explore even a modicum of a life. 

_Before we, and the rest of our people, were thrust into a war we didn’t even know we waged._

But even then, in the midst of preparations of making a bunch of petty criminals’ into _warriors_ , he felt like they had a bond. When the Mountain Men came and took them, the ones that were left behind stuck together. Him, Octavia, Monroe, Sterling, Finn, Raven and Murphy. God, he even depended on fucking _Murphy_ , who was banished at the time, over the Ark, who arrested them as soon as they caught sight of them. 

But then he got Clarke back and they were in control again. Them and their people were in control of what efforts they contributed to get their people out of the Mountain. 

Him and Clarke. 

Clarke. 

_Clarke._

A body slammed to a stop beside him, Octavia tugging his jacket with one hand while pointing with the other at somewhere just beyond the trees. A dark space, peaking out through the branches. 

“Over there!” she exclaimed. 

A crash sounded behind them, both of the siblings turning to watch the fog speed up towards them. 

“ _ **Fuck**_ ,” Octavia breathed out, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights. 

Bellamy shot her incredulous look, shoving her forward as he shouted at her, “ **RUN!** ” 

That seemed to jump start his sister back into reality, her natural instincts kicking in and pushing her harder. Adrenaline flowed through his body at the possibility of revisiting death so soon after they presumably escaped it through the Anomaly – at least, that was the theory he was content to run with right now – their feet taking them closer and closer to the gaping, black hole at the bottom of the mountain. 

“Faster, faster!” 

“I’m going as quick as I can, O!” 

“Not fucking fast enough!” 

Green wafted in his peripheral, panic spiking up his throat. He turned back to the front and went as fast as he possibly could, conscious of the sticks and rocks in his path so that they didn’t make the strain he was putting on his body to escape death worthless. 

_Five feet. Just five more feet._

“ **BELL, JUMP!** ” 

Octavia was already in the cave, clutching the inside as if physically restraining herself from running out and helping him along but there was no need. He heard her and lunged, flinging himself forward as far as he could. The sunlit green of the forest leaves turned black as he hit the floor, rolling into the mouth of the cave just as the fog hit the side of the mountain. 

The green gas wafted through the entrance after them, creeping along the floor to where Bellamy was sprawled out, trying to catch his breathe. His lungs were on fire, his vision had long started to blur, and a great big ache had started from his possible broken nose and the black eyes curtesy of Shumway. 

“Bell, we have to go. We need to go deeper. Bell, get up.” 

He felt arms go around him, a female grunt as he was lifted up slightly and dragged back. 

“God, I don’t remember being this weak,” Octavia’s voice wheezed in his ear, “Come on, Bell, help me out here. I can’t do this alone.” 

He wanted to, he really fucking wanted to. He had seen what acid fog did to someone and he couldn’t get Atom’s bloody and deformed face out of his head for weeks, nor could he get the hauntingly beautiful song Clarke hummed under her breathe before she inserted his knife into the boy’s neck. 

He really, really wanted to move. 

But he could barely keep his eyes open. 

Clarke would call this a concussion. 

_Any fucking moron would call this a concussion._

“Bell, please,” Octavia pleaded with him, sending a worried look over her shoulder at the approaching fog, gritting her teeth as she growled out, “ _Get up_ , Bellamy.” 

He really should. He should move, or at the very least, roll over. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t do that. What was the fucking point? Sure, they’ll escape the fog, but if they go deeper, what’s the likelihood of running into Reapers? Or if they battle the Reapers and escape with their lives, what do they do next? Round up the hundred and go off into the wilderness? What about the Grounders? What about the Ark? What about ALIE and Praimfaya and everything that comes after? 

_Clarke would say that we shouldn’t give up. Or was it me that told her that?_

“ _ **Get up**_ , Bellamy!” 

He had hope. He had hope for the ground, for when he found out Clarke was still alive, for when he found his sister had survived all those years. He had hope when they found Sanctum, when they thought they could build a life there. He had hope when he found out Clarke was still alive – again – when he reunited with Octavia, when he made an alliance with the Children of Gabriel to overthrow the Primes – and fucking won. He had hope. For over a century, he held onto hope like it was his lifeline. 

But was it really his lifeline? Or was it the people he found, who’s memory he held onto for years, that held that title, that role in his life. 

Was she out there somewhere? What would she say if she saw him right now. 

_You still have hope, Clarke?_

_Are we still breathing?_

“ **BELL, GET THE FUCK UP!** ” 

And then he moved, getting to his feet, and sprinting into the darkness, Octavia on his heels. 

_Yes, we are. And I still have hope._

\- 

“You know, for a second there, I thought you were seriously gonna take this one lying down,” Octavia spoke up from where she sat across from him. 

They had ran on until they couldn’t see the fog climbing in after them before coming to a stop. Octavia had scouted ahead to make sure they weren’t any Reaper activity before coming to sit across from him, a large branch in hand and leaves in the other. From then on, Earth Skills class came in handy. It was weird to think of it like that. They had lived on the actual Earth for just over a year, and it was strange to credit the stuff they had to learn on the ground to someone up in space. 

But even if he was a killer, Pike was the one who taught them how to make fires, how to read maps and how to hunt for food. Even Octavia, who had long since lit the torch now lighting the dark space between them, had to give him credit to that. But Bellamy still had some tact. Not even his sister’s crimes could make him forget his own. 

“Like, acid fog, Bell? Really? That was how you were gonna go out,” his sister shook her head at him, a wry smile on her face that spoke her true age, so at odds with the return of her childish tone, “And on your first day back on Earth!” 

“How can you be so calm about all of this?” he grunted, gesturing at the cave around them as he frowned at her. 

Octavia sighed, unfolding her legs out from the crouch she had been sitting in so they were sprawled in front of her as she explained, “We need to stay calm because if we don’t, we will die. I don’t know how the hell we’re here, either, but I know that we’re still breathing. If we’re still breathing, we must be doing something right.” 

_If we’re still breathing, there’s hope._

Bellamy leaned his head back against the cave wall, feeling the sharp edges graze against his head as he said softly, “You were awake before me. Did you hear anything, see anything, that could tell you what or where or when we are?” 

His sister shuffled in her spot, teeth worrying her lip as she gazed at where they had just come from before telling him, “I was awake when we dropped from the Ark. And it was the same, Bell. Jaha was on the intercom, reciting the Traveller’s Ode. I was strapped in, in the same clothes I used to wear in the Skybox, on those first days at camp. Except you were beside me. Jaha was saying how we were all going to the ground and then the adults – “ 

Octavia looked up from her rant with wariness clouding her bright eyes as she told him, “Things have changed but what I do know is that I can’t be the only one sent down. The only prisoner, I mean. They had to have sent us all, or at least most of us, down with them. So, the way I see it, our people are out there, Bell. And if we remember, then what makes think they don’t?” 

“None of them remembered,” Bellamy pointed out, jerking his head at the mouth of the cave, “They had no fucking clue about anything that happened – not even the acid fog that was still going on before we even got to Mount Weather. If they don’t remember, then what makes you so sure that the Hundred will?” 

“No, no, think about it,” he interrupted when he saw Octavia open her mouth to protest, “We were the only two at the Anomaly, who were literally in it when it caught us. It would make sense for us to be the only ones to get stuck here, in where the hell we are, whenever the hell we are – but everyone else? I doubt it.” 

He trailed off at that, sagging against the wall as defeat pulsed through his bones. He would describe them as old and weary if he hadn’t been dipped into the portal version of the Lazarus Pit. Or was it the Fountain of Youth. Maybe a mix of both, whatever had sent him back, alive and in the body of his younger self, must have been running on both. 

Whatever it was, he didn’t fucking ask for it. What was the use of sending him and his sister back in time, to a place that didn’t stand a fucking chance? It was like the Earth was out to get you, everything on it was designed to kill you and if not you, than your spirit. Slowly and painfully, ever goddamn day. 

Why was he here? Why were they here? What was the purpose of this? 

A kick to the calf jerked him out of his thoughts, his head whipping over to where Octavia was glaring at him with fierce, outraged eyes as she yelled, “What the fuck is wrong with you, Bell? So, what? _What_? We’re just gonna leave them, our friends, our _family_ , to be prisoners again? What happened to whatever the hell we want? What the fuck happened to that guy?” 

“He died in Praimfaya,” Bellamy muttered, rubbing at his leg as he rolled his eyes away from her. 

Another kick told him that wasn’t going to work. It seemed like reincarnation made Octavia forget herself. She wasn’t a fucking child anymore. Going back in time didn’t change that. Before he could remind her of this, however, she interrupted him. 

“ _ **Bullshit**_ ,” she hissed out, scrambling up to tower over him with her finger pointed at him accusingly, “I don’t know what the fuck happened when you went out to get Raven but I sure as hell know that one minute, I’m saying goodbye to my brother who literally risked being shot by Clarke to open the bunker to save me and five hundred people and then six years later, I'm greeting a _stranger_. I haven’t seen the real Bellamy since you went up to space, but I know that where we are right now, _when_

_“No we won't – “_

__

“Don’t _even_ lie to me right now,” Octavia growled, crouching down to his eye level as she spoke lowly to him, “Those people out there, they might not remember us but we remember _each and every single one of them_. They are our friends, our family, our fucking people and some of them, they’re fucking more than _just_ that. It shouldn’t matter about all that comes after because when we were all together, we could do _anything_! We went up against the Mountain, against ALIE, against _**the end of the fucking world**_ and we _survived_. Where is your heart, Bell? Where is your heart?” 

__

_Where **is** your heart?_

__

Why was he asking himself this? Was it ever really lost? 

__

He and Octavia used to play a game with their mother when she lost something. A bit of material or a tool kit or the money she owed Nigel when rations were tight and clothes were scarce. It didn’t matter, once they played the game, she found it in no time. All she had to do was retrace her steps. And that was it. Bellamy could guess the exact time he lost his heart and it would be the same answer as everything else that got lost. 

__

_In Praimfaya._

__

Praimfaya took something from everyone on the Ring. And in the bunker below. And, unbenknowst to him, took something from that girl in Becca’s lab, who lived in Eden with a nightblood child. When he thought Clarke died, he took her final words to him, her real words, and applied it to how he led his friends on the Ring for six years. He had to use his head. 

__

Because the girl who used to help him with that didn’t make it back. 

__

And when he came back, she had started ruling with her own heart. 

__

And he knew what Clarke would tell him if she were there. 

__

He rose his head to meet Octavia’s knowing eyes but when he went to open his mouth, he stopped. 

__

Voice echoed around the cave, travelling from the direction Octavia had scouted almost twenty minutes ago. The siblings exchanged knowing looks before getting to their feet, hands and legs positioning themselves in a battle stance despite their lack of weapons or armour. It was quiet possible that in the twenty minutes since she last checked, the Reapers could have travelled along the caves, checking the entrances for any unlucky foe who chose their territory to find sanctuary in, to wait out the green storm. 

__

When the first arm reached out from the darkness, Bellamy was ready. Snatching the thin, wrist, he whipped them around and forced them against the wall, one arm holding the person by their throat while the other grappled to pin down their flailing limbs, checking for the ridges of a sword or a dagger amidst the……fleece jacket and the loose, cotton cloth of a shirt? 

__

_Wait a minute….._

__

“Hands off of him,” a voice commanded from the darkness. 

__

Bellamy and Octavia whipped in the direction it came from, both flinching slightly when a boot stepped forward before joined by another. The sibling’s eyes travelled up from the shoes, up the leather trousers, taking in the fleece jacket with the red spiked shoulder patches, to the sharp chin, the cocky smirk and finally to the blue eyes that stared back at them in amusement from a face that had aged just as fine as theirs over the years. Or, rather, the lack of them. 

__

“He’s with us,” smirked John Murphy, crossing his arms over his chest in triaumph when Bellamy and Octavia gaped at him before slowly turning their heads to the boy struggling to breathe against Bellamy’s chokehold. 

__

Stepping back in his shock, Bellamy let the boy drop to the floor, his jaw hanging unhinged as he watched Murphy pull the guy up, clapping him on the back a couple of times as the boy with the red lined goggles on his head, inhaling sharply. 

__

“Good to see you again, Bellamy,” Jasper Jordan wheezed out between a grin he tried hard to maintain despite his chest hacking with a wet cough, “I guess you were right. We _would_ meet again.” 

__

And in the midst of his brain going haywire at seeing Jasper fucking Jordan, alive and in front of him again, he heard Octavia whisper to him, “I fucking told you so.”

__


	5. Bellamy Blake: The Rebel King.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hey!” Murphy exclaimed in mock offense before gesturing to himself, “The escape from the guardsmen transporting us was _one hundred percent_ a Murphy original. Clarke only takes fifty percent credit for the Delinquent Revolution.”
> 
> “That sounds like something Bellamy would be more likely to pull off”, Jasper joked, hands jammed into his pockets in an attempt at being casual despite the worry fraying his voice as he asked, “So how ‘bout it? Anyone from camp with you guys?”
> 
> “We didn’t see anyone on ours,” Octavia replied, shaking her head, “Just me and Bell. We fought our way out just as the horn sounded. Ran like hell in a straight line until we saw the mountain and only just made it before the fog caught up to us.”
> 
> “Sounds like we all just barely made it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Thank you for your beautiful comments! Here's the next chapter, hope you enjoy it and just a reminder that all feedback, criticism and suggestions are welcomed and deeply appreciated! Looking forward to hearing how you thought of it!

“ _Jasper?_ ” Bellamy breathed out, staggering back until he hit the wall. 

The last time he had seen the boy, he was dead in every sense except physical. Jasper Jordan had lost all hope by the time Praimfaya rolled around and was content with his decision to let the radiation take him. Bellamy didn’t know why it was different when Jasper died. Maybe because after all they had been through, all the hurt and the pain that sat on their chest until they struggled to continue moving, Jasper actually _chose_ to stop. 

At least he died on his own terms. 

Bellamy had just wished there were more he could have done to make him see that all hope wasn’t lost. But then, Bellamy would not only be a hypocrite but also a fucking liar. 

But that was then. This is now. 

_Now_ , the boy in question, with bright eyes twinkling in amusement, rubbed at the red patch of skin where his neck met his shoulders with a strangled laugh before replying, “In the flesh, man.” 

“You guys remember?” Bellamy whispered in awe, ignoring the knowing looks his sister shot him from where she stood between them, “You guys remember _everything_?” 

Murphy was the one who answered for them, “We all remember, Bellamy. But only the Hundred. The adults have no clue, but what’s new?” 

Bellamy shook his head at that, stumbling forward to wrap Jasper in a hug as he mumbled, “I can’t believe it.” 

“I _literally_ told you just a few minutes ago!” Octavia’s voice snarked from behind him, her exasperated sigh echoing around the cave. 

He felt arms tighten around his back, Jasper’s voice replying, “ _Patience_ , little Blake. You’ll get a Jasper Jordan hug in just a minute.” 

To Bellamy, he murmured, “I missed you too, man.” 

Bellamy’s chest grew warm as he whispered back, “It’s good to have you back.” 

“It’s good to be back,” Jasper grinned, shrugging as he pulled away, turning to the dark-haired girl standing off to the side, “Come on? I know you missed me.” 

Octavia’s lips curled up to the side as she bounded over to the taller boy, bringing her arms up to envelope him into a tight hug, rubbing her hands down his back as she whispered, “Hey, Jasp.” 

Now that Bellamy thought about it, this was actually real. Not in the sense that they were in real life, but in the sense that they were all here together again, on this place they thought had been lost in the span of a century, a century that went by in a sleep stasis for some and a century that others hadn’t survived to see. Jasper was one of those people, swinging Octavia around like she was that teenage girl again. Bellamy remembered that for Jasper, she kind of was. Yes, his sister had immersed herself deeply in Grounder culture well before the death wave neared, but she had still retained a lot of her childhood self. Jasper hadn’t lived to see the inhumanity that was Blodreina. And Bellamy was kind of thankful for it because it brought warmth into his heart to see them like this. 

Jasper and Murphy looked the same as they had that first day on Earth, when they had all run out of the Dropship and let chaos rule their hearts and heads for days afterwards. Bellamy had smiled sadly as he studied the goggles sitting on top of Jasper’s head, the same goggles that he noticed had sat on top of the dashboard in the Rover when he and the others came down from the Ring. 

He had busied himself with inspecting the Rover one night, one of the first after they came down from the Ring, curious to what little knick knacks Clarke had hidden within the vehicle. That’s where he found Jasper’s letter. He shared it with Monty and they had spent a good hour crying in the back, an arm slung around each other until they fell asleep. That was how Harper found them the next morning, and they had woken up to find her sitting in the front seat, the letter in her hands with silent sobs wrecking her shoulders. 

The letter had been worn through before they had found it though, evidence of tears long since shed for the contents that told the reader in a very dry, bitter and in an almost ironic humour about how they damned the world. How they would never break the cycle of violence unless they removed themselves from the equation. In a way, his letter and Monty’s final words left to his son for Bellamy and Clarke were two sides of the same coin, a realization that the violence they had seen throughout their entire lives was borne from _them_. 

Monty had admitted that he knew about the letter before the death wave. He told Bellamy about Jasper’s plan to end his life after the City of Light was destroyed. The only reason he didn’t do it sooner was because he didn’t see the point when the end of the world would come to meet him soon enough. But now, now that everything that had been taken from him had been returned in one way or another with this world they had woken up to, Bellamy hoped that Jasper would consider this a second chance for not only himself, but for the rest of them too. 

By the look of the big, goofy grin on the boy's face as he set the girl back on the ground before turning to Bellamy, he felt at ease in the fact that Jasper’s brown eyes were too alive to be the same eyes that belonged to the dead boy walking he had left back at Arkadia all those many years ago. 

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Murphy smirked from where he leaned against the wall beside him, arms open wide as he asked mockingly, “Where’s my hug?” 

“It’s literally been a few hours since we left,” Bellamy pointed out but went to hug him anyway, pulling back to ask, “Have you seen anyone else? Raven, Miller?” 

_Clarke?_

Murphy’s lips curled up a bit, as if he heard the silent name echoing through his head in worry before he jerked his head back the way they came, saying, “Come on. The rest of us found a cave a few turns back to wait out the fog.” 

“Which dropship did you come from?” Octavia questioned as she leaned down to pick up the torch on the ground, walking beside Murphy as he led them deeper into the mountain. 

“Mine landed a bit away from the ravine. The guardsmen on ours told us that another dropship had landed an hour south from us and that the higher ups wanted us to set up temporary camps for the Skybox prisoners, to make an orderly transition at their head base once the other citizens had settled in. We met up with the others at the halfway point before ditching our guards and taking off.” 

“A good thing too,” Jasper interjected with a laugh, “These guys ran into us when we came down the mountain, the same one our group landed on. Also happened to be exactly the same one we landed on last time, so we knew our way around pretty easily. We were going in the opposite direction as our guardsmen, who we gave the slip in the time they were transporting the citizens on our dropship to where rest of the Ark had chosen to settle down at. Clarke had told us to go to the bunker where she and Finn – “ 

“Wait, _Clarke_ was with you?” Bellamy interrupted, holding out a hand to halt the boy next to him. 

Jasper exchanging knowing looks with Octavia before answering, “Who do you think took down the two guardsmen who were left behind to watch us? This was all her plan, man.” 

Bellamy let out the breathe he didn’t know he was holding, relief settling into his shoulders and soothing the tension that had built itself there within a matter of minutes. 

Clarke was alive, she came back and she remembered. It was _his_ Clarke who was out there somewhere, _his_ Clarke who knew the terrain like the back of her hand and who could take care of herself better than anyone else he knew. 

_I really need to stop calling her my Clarke, it’s getting to the point where it sounds normal again._

During their time apart after taking down the Mountain, when she was on the run and he was trying to return to a semi-normal life in Arkadia, he had to stop thinking of her as _his_. His partner, his friend, his co-leader, his – well, _his_. Because it was quiet clear to him at that stage that she wasn’t anything of the kind, especially when she left him at the gates after coming back from the Mountain. When they came back from Polis after defeating ALIE, he let himself hope that they could return to the way things used to be. And at the end, they were. They were exactly where they were supposed to be. 

Until they weren’t. 

But now, they were on Earth again and he felt his head spin at the thoughts that clouded his mind, behind his eyes, softening his features a tad as he thought of all the possibilities of redemption, of peace, of living and for what came beyond that. For him, Clarke and every single one of their people. 

For every single one of their ghosts they left behind on this desolate world, now born anew. 

“Hey!” Murphy exclaimed in mock offense before gesturing to himself, “The escape from the guardsmen transporting us was _one hundred percent_ a Murphy original. Clarke only takes fifty percent credit for the Delinquent Revolution.” 

“That sounds like something Bellamy would be more likely to pull off”, Jasper joked, hands jammed into his pockets in an attempt at being casual despite the worry fraying his voice as he asked, “So how ‘bout it? Anyone from camp with you guys?” 

“We didn’t see anyone on ours,” Octavia replied, shaking her head, “Just me and Bell. We fought our way out just as the horn sounded. Ran like hell in a straight line until we saw the mountain and only just made it before the fog caught up to us.” 

“Sounds like we all just barely made it.” 

“Figures,” Murphy snorted from at front before coming to a stop, he held out a hand to halt them. They had come to a fork in the path, one veering off to the left while another veered off to the right. 

“Well, shit,” Jasper laughed under his breathe, “Should’ve remembered which we way we came. Oh, well, here’s to hoping!” 

He made to start down the right with a skip in his step and slight recklessness in his eyes before Octavia struck her arm out to prevent him from going further, eyes narrowed at that darkness engulfing the path with a fierce, predatory look that reminded everybody in the cave who she once was. And who, for the most part, she still had to be if she, as well as the rest of their people, wanted to survive a second time on this planet. 

“Not _**that**_ way,” she growled out, tugging Jasper back and over to the left path before disappearing around the corner. 

Bellamy didn’t miss the disappointment in Jasper’s eyes as he trekked after the girl and he was reminded that although they had returned to a world where their scars had disappeared and their skin was wiped clean of the memories of past horrors, this strange world did them the justice – and in doing so, cursed them – with the still fresh wounds that lay upon their minds. 

Unlike the rest of them, Jasper had battled with an internal strife so strong that it had inevitably won in the end, although it’s victory had been claimed even before Praimfaya. Those emotions, those wounds, couldn’t be healed, as it would seem for Jasper, in such a small passage of time. Waking up from a nightmare was the easy part, it was dealing with knowing that nightmare existed in one form or another that was the real trauma. 

A trauma that would need to be tended to with the greatest of care, consideration, and respect. 

And as much as Bellamy wanted to do what he had failed to do the first time, to be there for his friend through such a agonizing time in his life, he was reluctant to admit that now wasn’t the best time. Their people were still dispersed amongst a territory that, at this point in time, was still wild and hostile to seeming strangers. 

Just as before, they were the invaders of this territory, they were the trespassers, and in Grounder law, trespassing on another clan’s territory without invitation or warning, along with armed forces of hundreds of people, was all declarations of war in their eyes. They still needed to get their people, set up camp before writing up a truce with Lexa and the thirteen clans. With their luck, they could join the Coalition once again. Maybe even try to get Roan on their side, to crown him King of Azgeda once again. 

Maybe they would see Echo again. He would like that, to have a chance at befriending her, at having her as family. He loved her, he still did, but he knew that she would not go through the trials she once did, not be the person he once knew her as, nor would she swear fealty to any but that of her people. Of that of her monarch. 

So many things had to happen before they could ever hope of finding any kind of life here. But they just had to take a deep breathe, and another. Just one step at a time. Just take it day by day. 

\- 

“So, what went down after I peaced out?” Jasper asked casually, shoving his hands into his trouser pockets as they walked. 

They had been walking about twenty minutes in the same direction, the four of them talking about different theories about how they could have all turned up back here on Earth, in this alternate time to the one they knew. At least, that was how Jasper was referring to their mystical return until Murphy scoffed before correcting him underneath his breathe. 

_“Yeah, that sounds like the Anomaly.”_

That only spurred on more questions, mostly from Jasper who was shocked, to say the least, upon finding out that not only had they destroyed the world – Clarke’s words, not theirs – but they had to jump onto the Eligius III ship, stay in cryo sleep for a hundred years before finally arriving on a new alien planet. 

It seemed that their glossed over version of the past wasn’t going to cut it with Jasper. He seemed determine to take his newfound sense of leadership to the max and honestly, Bellamy couldn’t blame him. But nevertheless, the other three froze up as they whipped their heads towards him with panic and hesitation alight in their eyes, the most panicked being Octavia, although his sister tried to smother it under a bleak look of indifference as she charged forward, snatching the torch from Jasper’s hand and walking ahead, taking the light with her. 

With the torch light fading the further she walked, Jasper’s face was cast in a tanned glow that made the sweat drenching his hairline more prominent and the slight clench in his jaw more pronounced. The boy swallowed before asking hesitantly, “Was it something I said?” 

“Man, you missed out,” Murphy muttered sarcastically, rubbing at his jaw before following after the girl, yelling, “Slow down, Octavia, not everyone is used to seeing in the dark!” 

Bellamy shook his head at his friend, not needing to see his sister to know that how she would have reacted to the jab before he gestured to Jasper to follow after them, telling the boy with a heavy sigh, “Let’s just say it was a hell of a seven years. And then what came after was actual **_Hell_**.” 

He faced forward, eyes narrowed on the figures of Murphy and Octavia ahead of him as he tried to find his footing in the darkening cave but he did catch Jasper muttering something like, “Figures.” 

_Yeah, we’re gonna have to catch everyone up to speed._

It wasn’t long before they heard the sound of voices whispering quietly amongst themselves. Bellamy felt his stomach tighten at the thought of seeing the people he used to leader all those years ago. God, he felt fucking stupid for how he acted back then. These people, these kids, thought he was looking after them, that he wanted to liberate them. But really, he was just out for himself, and his sister. 

_Shoot Jaha. Get on the Dropship. Get Octavia. Get the hell out of dodge._

But that was before he understood that they _needed_ him. They all looked up to him. He was the only one, the only adult, who gave an actual damn about them in years and they latched onto him like he was their king. 

That was before Clarke took him on that day trip to the nearby bunker to retrieve the supplies Jaha had sent the girl to find. Why she took him with her was beyond him, but he had his suspicions that it was something to do with Finn. 

_“I could use backup.”_

_“Why are you asking me?”_

_“Well, because right now I don’t feel like being around anyone I actually like.”_

Bellamy smiled softly to himself in amusement as he thought, _Look at us now, Princess._

After that, him and Clarke stood up, together, and took care of them all. That’s when he stopped thinking of them all as petty criminals and as people that actually needed him. Like Octavia, they needed someone who was willing to take responsibility for them, to care, to protect them, to risk their lives for them. 

At the time, he still didn’t even know if he was fully prepared to do that. But he did it anyway. Even as one by one, he failed them all until he failed the one he had sworn to protect since birth. He didn’t think he could fall further than he did when he failed Octavia, when it was revealed what he actually let out of that box in the ground. 

Was he willing to do it again? 

_We bear it so they don’t have to._

Up ahead, Murphy led Octavia and Jasper around the corner, and Bellamy silently steeled himself for the decision he would once again make. To take up the mantle of leader, of responsibility, of the kids. Almost all of them had no clue what was in store for them, and they needed them to lead them. He couldn’t ditch them; he wouldn’t ditch them again. 

Never again. He would do everything in his power to make sure that they all survived. 

And that they **lived**. 

They both would. 

So, with a heaviness in his worn leather combat boots that were, in a way, newer than anything he ever wore past this day in another time, Bellamy stepped forward into the small caravan where almost forty kids gathered, leaning against the stone wall and lying across the floor in exhaustion and with a tense sort of patience. 

That was, until he appeared at the stone ledge overlooking them, stepping up next to his sister, Murphy and Jasper. 

It started with one person. Then another. And then another. 

Until they were all standing up. 

And that was how Bellamy Blake was welcomed back by half his camp of Delinquents. 

To the sound of a thunderous roar of applause, cheering and whistles that threatened to drown out the acid storm raging outside the mountain. 

And once again, Bellamy became that same young man he was centuries ago. 

_The Rebel King._

\- 

As Bellamy and the others climbed down from the ledge a few metres above the caravan floor, all the kids gathered around to greet them. He caught sight of Monroe standing at the front, a guardsman issued rifle slung across her back like the visage of an old picture that had been reprinted and made anew. She gave him a wry grin before turning back to tighten her hold around the shoulders of a shorter girl, a girl with dark hair braided back with waves left out and dangling down her shoulders, revealing a fresh face strewn with shadows. 

His own smile dropped when he caught her gaze and he felt regret seize him like heartburn. 

The last time he had seen that face, it was frozen in a silent scream as a spear stuck straight out of her chest and through her back into the tree behind her. He remembered that day, like he seemed to remember every single day he spent on the ground. It was day they set off to find his sister, who had been taken by Lincoln. 

It was in between the tall trees that the Grounders hollered, and the spears were thrown with pin-point accuracy and the people without the luck that Jasper had possessed on his first day on the ground. Roma barely let out a scream when she was struck, and he remembered his words after he rushed to the aid of her dead body as true and as convicting as they were then. 

_“She only came because of me.”_

He gave her a nod as he was led past her, the girl managing to give him a tight smile in return before leaning her head on Monroe’s shoulder. Bellamy turned around to see the faces of other people he once knew, flashing through the crowd as they clapped him on the back and yelled out his name like it was the name of their god, coming down to rescue them. To lead them out of damnation. 

Bellamy internally snorted at the thought, _Now I know how Clarke, Madi and Octavia feel._

_Jesus fucking Christ, now I know how the **Primes** fucking feel._

He tried to grin back, not even denying how good it felt to hear people need him with such vigour. It felt good to be alive again. It felt good to see them all alive again but he needed to keep his head on straight and to do what needed to be done, otherwise none of them would be seeing the next sunrise and all miraculous resurrection or whatever the hell was going on here would be for nothing. 

He knew what Clarke would do. Hell, he was given instructions left to Jasper. He just needed to make sure this lot would follow him again and not give up on him, even when they did find out the hell they would be facing. 

Murphy led him and Octavia to where backpacks and supplies were dispersed next to big rock on the right side of the cave that must lead outside before stopping and turning to the other kids, who gathered around them eagerly waiting to hear what the next move would be. They all chattered loudly, some still whistling and clapping even after they walked past them all and greeted them. 

Bellamy glanced down at where his sister stood beside him, her eyes the softest he had seen since she came out of that bunker. She was looking around at everyone and a small smile played on her lips. Not the cruel smile of a queen or a wry smile of a warrior but the smile of a girl. Not the girl under the floor, but the first girl on the ground. 

“Are you crying?” he teased softly under his breathe, laughing slightly when she nudged him in his side. 

“Shut up,” she grunted back with a smirk before turning to the front. 

And that was when they heard it. 

_“Blodreina.”_

Octavia inhaled sharply, stiffening her spine until she stood up straight. The soft, girly smile on her lips disappeared as they pursued and tightened into a thin line. But she didn’t falter, she didn’t flinch, she didn’t move to acknowledge the two boys sneering at her in hate, in fear or in derision. She merely jutted out her chin in defiance and stared straight forward. The act of a queen who had been dethroned. 

Bellamy swallowed and glanced at the two boys, knowing instantly how they died. When Clarke and him first came down into the bunker, the first thing that hit them was the smell. It was startling familiar, the return of a scent long imprinted but long neglected in the industrial cleansing of the Ark Ring. It was the smell of death, fresh and stale, creating an atmosphere that he soon realized was appropriate for the girl – the _**woman**_ – Wonkru proclaimed their ‘ _Red Queen_ ’. 

And nobody hated that woman more than him but now, seeing his sister in the form of her younger self, he felt the surge of responsibility rise up in him. Bellamy shuffled behind her so he stood between her and the two sneering boys, his back to them as he faced Murphy. 

Octavia shifted on her feet as she mumbled, “I don’t need your protection.” 

“It’s not you I’m protecting, O,” Bellamy replied, not batting an eye, “Not everyone is gonna be onboard with this. Second chances aren’t for everyone and there’s gonna be people who will give it up for revenge.” 

“And that’s my fault?” 

“Yes. You caused so much pain, Octavia, and nobody is going to be forgetting about it – especially those who, for them, were murdered at your command not even a few hours ago,” he told her with his jaw clenched as he glanced over his shoulder at the two boys whispering amongst themselves. 

His sister followed his gaze before looking up at him before murmuring quietly, “I won’t deny what I did. And believe me, you don’t even know the half of it. But if you think these people are mad at _just_ me, you have another thing coming, big brother.” 

A pair of arms slung themselves around the shoulders of the two siblings, Jasper’s voice whispering in false cheer that was at odds with the words coming out of his mouth as he warned them, “That sounds like warring words, my friends. We’re not doing that anymore. Second chances are for everyone and if anyone tries to mess that up, well, let’s just say I’m not gonna go quietly this time. Understand?” 

The brother and sister glanced at each other before nodding subtly, turning around as Murphy called for everyone’s attention with a sharp whistle, “Everyone **SHUT THE FUCK UP!** ” 

The caravan fell silent, Jasper’s arms slipping off the Blake siblings’ shoulders as he took his place on the other side of Murphy, sending one last look of warning at the two before he faced the crowd with a wry grin. 

“Alright, now that I have your _attention_ ,” Murphy drawled with a look at a group of girls who were trying to chat discreetly under their breathe but stopped upon seeing everyone looking at them, “We gotta have a talk about what we’re doing next.” 

The boy glanced over his shoulder at Bellamy and waved his hands at the kids, as if to say ‘ _have at it, Boss_.’ 

Bellamy swallowed at the sudden attention fixated on him, and was about to tell Murphy that he was doing a good job on his own – something he never thought he would ever say to John Murphy – when Octavia muttered under her breathe, “You can do this, Bell. You were born for this.” 

He didn’t expect that from the sister he had been so terse with just a few minutes but when he glanced down, he caught the brief flash of understanding in her eyes and felt himself grow strong, standing up with his head held high as he strode forward. Murphy held his hands up and walked backwards to stand beside Jasper and Octavia with a slight smirk as if to say, ‘ _It’s all yours_.’ 

Bellamy waited until he had their attention before declaring in a loud, strong voice. 

“I know that you all have questions. About what happened, why we are here, _how_ we are here. And as much as I would like to give you the answers, I can’t. But I can tell you this. We are here. We survived. And we are gonna stay that way for as long as possible. I know a lot of you are confused but we’ll have time to figure it all out once we get the rest of our people.” 

“Now, Clarke has gone to follow the guardsmen back to wherever the Ark have set up their main camp. If she finds any of our people, rest assured, she will bring them back with as much supplies as she can,” Bellamy told them all with a no-nonsense edge to his voice, “We are to meet her and her group at a small bunker, about three hours south of here. If we leave as soon as the fog lifts and we travel without any stops, we can make it there by nightfall. Everyone with me?” 

“Since when do you take orders from the Princess?” someone shouted from the back of the group, muffled giggles and laughter following in their wake. 

As Bellamy opened his mouth to give them a mouthful on showing some respect, Murphy charged up beside him and shouted, “I thought I told you all to _shut the fuck up?_ Unless, of course, you want _me_ to do it for you?” 

After getting nudged by Bellamy, he rolled his eyes before amending his speech with a mutter, “I obviously meant it in a non-criminal way.” 

While Murphy calmed down behind him, Bellamy turned back to the crowd, dark eyes narrowing on the group of boys ribbing each other at the back and rolled his shoulders in anticipation as a cocky grin curled up on his lips, “To answer your question, I started taking orders from the _Princess_ when she outlived almost every single fucking person in this room. Now, anymore questions or did we want to move onto trying to figure out how _not_ to die?” 

Before anyone else could utter another stupid comment, the sounds of footsteps running towards them from the tunnel leading out of the mountain had him and Octavia reaching for their guns until Jasper’s hand landed on his weapon with a raised eyebrow as he mumbled, “Really? Straight for the gun?” 

Octavia rolled her eyes with a grunt as she shook him off but put her weapon down anyway. His sister still maneuverer herself in front of Jasper, the boy pulling her hair with a grin as told her, “You’re too cute.” 

Bellamy turned forward just in time to see a guardsman jog in, kneeling over as he panted out, “Coast is –“ 

The older man was cut short upon seeing the gun levelled at his forehead, eyes widening as they followed the barrel all the way up to the person on the other end as he slowly raised his hands in surrender. 

“Bellamy – “ 

“Bell, stop – “ 

“Jesus Christ, **AGAIN** with the fucking guns?” 

“Stop, stop!” a feminine voice rang out through the caravan as a small body pushed itself between him and the guardsman, a mane of blonde hair taking up most of his vision as a girl glared up at him, growling out, “ _Stand down_ , Blake.” 

“Aslynn?” Bellamy frowned, stepping back a bit before lowering the gun pointed at her, “Jesus, I could have killed you. What are you doing? And can somebody tell me right now why we have an Ark guardsman just walking around?” 

He had never seen the man before in his life. He was tall, middle aged with fading golden hair that was shorn short in a military style often adopted by the Ark guardsmen. His piercing green eyes matched the girl who threw herself in front of a gun, and Bellamy’s eyes widened in understanding. 

“Well, this is a warm welcome,” Aslynn grumbled before stepping aside now that the man wasn’t going to get shot, “It’s been a long time, Blake.” 

“How many times do I have to tell you to call me Bellamy?” 

“Why the fuck would I do that?” 

He shook his head with an easy grin and was about to respond when he saw somebody move up next to him, the dark hair tipping him off that it was just his sister as she gazed upon the familiar face. Aslynn Whelan had been one of the few people at camp that Octavia had gotten along with, and when she told him why, he understood. 

It turned out, the Council lied when they said that Octavia was the only case they knew where a second child was kept secret from them for so long. That honour would go to the Whelan sisters. Yeah, as in _three_ of them. Aria and Elsa were not only the eldest, but they were twins, Aslynn only being two years younger them and only having just been welcomed to the world when their parents both died within four months of each other. 

Bellamy connected the dots that the man standing behind the golden haired girl with his hand rubbing roughly at his jaw as he eyed the gun he had just tucked in his waistband was the uncle she had often spoken about to Octavia. Which meant that this man was technically just as much of a criminal as the rest of them if he kept the secret of his sister bearing three children. 

“Sorry for that,” Bellamy apologized, extending a hand out to the man, “Bellamy Blake.” 

“Decker Whelan,” the man introduced himself, albeit a bit warily but that was understandable, “It seems you’re the Bellamy they keep referring to.” 

“I guess so,” he shrugged back, not sure what else to say to that. 

The man turned away from him to watch as Octavia strode forward to meet her old friend, Aslynn walking to meet her halfway before the girls stopped to consider each other. Green eyes clashed in a battle of wills before Aslynn cracked first, literally, with a small smile. 

“So, how long until you bit it?” 

“A hundred and thirty-two years give or take a few months.” 

Gasps rang out behind them at the odd and impossible answer and Bellamy was about to scold his sister for giving way to chaos and confusion with her dramatics when Aslynn threw her head back laughing like it was the funniest joke in the world. 

“Of course it was. Damn, I guess I still owe you that drink, don’t I?” 

Octavia lips twitched slightly as she replied, “I don’t think that’s necessary.” 

“We just came back from the fucking dead. If it’s not necessary now, is it ever gonna be?” 

Bellamy watched his sister closely, wondering if she would keep up her stoic persona, even as they were introduced to the faces of ghosts once more but was pleasantly surprised when Octavia shrugged with a grin erupting out onto her face before she stepped forward to embrace the blonde, muttering slightly in a voice, clearer and more youthful than ever, “Touché.” 

“Okay, this is all really fucking touching, but Decker came in to tell us that the fog has let up. It seems the Mountain Men are going easy on our first day back,” Murphy drawled as he turned back to the group, letting out another ear-piercing whistle as he announced, “Alright, listen up. _Listen the fuck up_. We have a three hour walk to the bunker, and if any of you lag behind, we are not responsible if you’re snatched by a Grounder or some dick from Mount Weather out for a morning stroll. Is that clear?” 

They all let out noises of understanding, mostly with the enthusiasm of a snail. Bellamy narrowed his eyes at the crowd of kids before stepping up to declare, “Look, if you don’t want to be here, if you don’t want to come with us, that’s fine. It’s your second chance, it’s your choice. _Whatever the hell you want_.” 

A few people laughed over that, Bellamy catching people like Monroe and Roma grinning as mirth danced in their eyes off to the side. He smiled back at them before continuing on in a more serious tone, “If you want to go back and play prison labor for the Ark, go ahead. I will personally escort you back myself. But if you stay, you need to understand what you’re getting into. This will not be like last time. When I say ‘ _whatever the hell you want_ ’, I’m not talking about taking shit from others, or shooting your guns like fucking maniacs or even being little brats and sabotaging shit. That’s who the Ark thinks you are now. A bunch of petty criminals. But you’re not. I know you’re not. I know you guys.” 

“We’re changed,” somebody shouted, a voice rasped and full of fear, shame, regret, “We’re not the same kids we were back then.” 

“No, you’re not,” Bellamy agreed before moving on to the point he was trying to make, “You’ve _died_. You’ve suffered. And now you’re back. I’m trying to keep you back. I’m trying to help you stay alive, but that can only happen if we fucking work together. But if you don’t feel like this is the place you should be, than I respect that. I really do. As soon as we reach that bunker, you can tell me if you want to be taken further and I will help you do that. But for the ones that choose to stay, you are staying cause’ you wanna live. Not survive, not fight every single second of every single fucking day, but live.” 

He breathed out as the room fell silent at his words and he remembered. To some of these kids, he was Bellamy Blake, the Rebel King, the leader of the Deliquients. They listened to him, even when he was up against Clarke’s charisma or Wells’ logic. They listened to him now, even though they had been led here by Murphy and Jasper, leaders in their own newfound right. And he needed them to keep listening if they all wanted to see their second chances through. 

“It’s not gonna be easy. We have all suffered from different enemies in the past, enemies now alive again today. But it wont be like that this time. We know who they are, we know how to think and we know how to achieve peace without our people dying. I’m willing to do whatever it takes so that you all keep your lives. Can I expect the same from you?” 

He waited, holding his breathe as the kids all talked amongst themselves. Sweat dripped down his forehead, and his nostrils flared as he tried to breathe through them but he was determined to go through with achieving peace all on his own if he had to. And they all knew that. 

It was Monroe, of course, who stepped up first, her gun now in her hands but pointed at the ground as she declared, “You know I have your back. A little toxic smoke isn’t gonna take me out this time around.” 

Octavia’s jaw tightened at that but his sister kept quiet, the same mantra presumably repeating itself inside her head as it did for his. 

_Second chances. Second chances. Second chances._

“I’m with you,” a quiet voice spoke up. 

Bellamy whipped his head up to see Roma step up next to Monroe, their hands entwined until the two girls stood strong and tall side by side as they stared at him, the former repeating, “I’m with you.” 

He nodded back, trying to communicate the gratitude he felt at such a declaration. Roma had risked her life to help him get Octavia back and despite knowing that she payed the price for it once with her life, she was willing to do it again. Because she trusted him. 

And so did the next boy that stepped forward. And the next girl. And the next. And the next. 

Until they all stepped forward, with their heads held high. It was in a sad ironic twist that his heart shuddered in pride at the sight of soldiers, not children, before him. And he hoped that as he led them through the trials that most of them had died in during their last life, that they would all make it out to stand by their decision to follow him as he gestured with his hand with a determined set in his eyes as the voice of leader returned to him, “Alright. Everyone, gather up as much supplied, share it amongst you equally. Get into two lines and keep up. Most of you know the terrain and for those that don’t, stick with someone who does. Because all of you, ALL of you, know what’s out there. So, don’t fall behind. You got that?” 

They all gave him a solemn nod and that was all he needed to turn forward as the sound of shuffling and voices erupted out from behind him. Jasper and Murphy grinned at him as he walked over to them, shaking his head at them as he muttered, “Wipe those smirks of your face.” 

“Woohoo, Bellamy is back,” Jasper whooped as he clapped his hands. 

“Man, you should have seen him on that last planet we were on. Now, that was a Bellamy Blake move for the times,” Murphy drawled sarcastically before pulling the cheering boy alongside him towards the backpacks off to the side, “You wanna hear what happened when Bellamy teamed up with the Children of Gabriel and fought off the bad guys like a super hero wannabe?” 

Bellamy shook his head in amusement as he heard Jasper mutter, “I’m still stuck on the fact you guys were on another planet……” 

_You’ll get used to it, Jasper._

\- 

They had all gathered outside after handing the packs out, getting into two lines with Bellamy and Octavia taking the back, Decker and Aslynn on the side and Jasper and Murphy leading the group of forty odd kids through the woods. It was about five minutes into their walk that Octavia stopped him, pulling him off to the side to whisper something that he should have seen coming. 

“I’m going after him.” 

Once again, he didn’t need to question who the ‘him’ was. And he felt that surge of responsibility flare up in his chest at the thought that his sister would be out there alone, without her usual array of weapons or armour or fearsome titles to protect her. But he owed it to her. He was responsible for her loss, he admitted it a long time ago and felt nothing but regret for the man who had started to become his friend, even after their violent first meeting. 

And Octavia wasn’t that little girl anymore, she wasn’t the little sister he had come down to Earth to protect. She was a woman, a warrior, a queen and he couldn’t let the nostalgia over seeing her like this, so young and so seemingly vulnerable, ruin all their hard work to be independent of each other. She would always be his sister, but she was no longer his responsibility. 

“Go, but be careful,” he told her, relishing in the way her girlish face lit up with a happiness that had become so foreign to him that he bathed in it like it was a gift from the gods. 

His sister surged forward, as if to press a kiss to his cheek or go in for a hug but stopped. Instead, she settled a hand on his, and squeezed. 

“Thank you, big brother,” she murmured to him softly as she drew back, “May we meet again.” 

“Get real, Octavia. We’ll see you after you bang your boyfriend,” a new voice spoke up as Murphy walked towards them with a smirk, flipping the knife in hand so the handle faced the Blake girl as he told her, “Here, take this. You look fucking weird with a gun. And I don’t think your _houmon_ will appreciate it.” 

Octavia’s head whipped up at the word, mouth gapping open as she questioned him harshly, “How do you know that word?” 

Murphy flipped the knife up high into the air before spinning on his heel, calling over his shoulder to her, “You’re not the only one with one of those, _your Majesty_!” 

Octavia shook her head at the boy before reaching out and grabbing the knife by it’s handle in mid-air before turning to him once more with a heavy sigh as she repeated, “May we meet again.” 

Bellamy, still cringing from the reminder that his sister was probably intending to ‘ _go bang her newly returned boyfriend_ ’, waved her off, “Yep, may we – may we meet again.” 

His sister snorted before spinning on her heel and sprinting off into the deep green of the surrounding forest, her dark hair whipping behind her as she jumped and flipped over rocks and fallen branches. He didn’t need to see her to know that she was smiling. That she was free again.


	6. Wells Jaha: Prince of the Prison

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wells Jaha never wanted to be a prince. 
> 
> When Bellamy Blake dubbed him the Chancellor of Earth, his blood boiled under his skin. He detested that name more than the name spat at him on the space station they used to call home: The Prince of the Ark. 
> 
> He **_hated_** the Ark; he hated the rules and regulations and the system that fueled everybody’s hatred towards him and his family. Towards his father. He would never claim to have a very close relationship with his father, not since his mother died. But he still respected the tough decisions he made in accordance of the strict laws their ancestors implemented. He knew that his father hated that position, that power to enforce a law instead of changing it but it was next to impossible to describe that to anyone else, _especially_ the prisoners on the ground.
> 
> He just never thought that their hatred would drive them to kill him.
> 
> But even then, he understood.
> 
> He died choking on his own blood.
> 
> And that was how he came back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Here's the new chapter! A lot of you wanted to see familiar faces such as Miller and Monty, and I like to make my people happy! Enjoy some old faces and some new ones, and let me know what you thought in the comments below. Remember that all feedback, suggestions and criticism are welcomed and deeply appreciated x

#### WELLS JAHA

Wells Jaha never wanted to be a prince. 

When Bellamy Blake dubbed him the Chancellor of Earth, his blood boiled under his skin. He detested that name more than the name spat at him on the space station they used to call home: The Prince of the Ark. 

He **_hated_** the Ark; he hated the rules and regulations and the system that fueled everybody’s hatred towards him and his family. Towards his father. He would never claim to have a very close relationship with his father, not since his mother died. But he still respected the tough decisions he made in accordance of the strict laws their ancestors implemented. He knew that his father hated that position, that power to enforce a law instead of changing it but it was next to impossible to describe that to anyone else, _especially_ the prisoners on the ground. 

He just never thought that their hatred would drive them to kill him. 

But even then, he understood. 

He died choking on his own blood. 

And that was how he came back. 

Hands wrapped around his throat, he lunged up from where he lay, trying to process what he needed to do. Clarke told him once that when there was an open wound, the first thing that you had to do was to put pressure on it and press **_hard_**. So, in the midst of his terror and the faint taste of metal on his tongue, he squeezed the side of his throat that still stung slightly – less than he would have expected upon being _stabbed_ – and counted to sixty in his head, hoping it would slow his heart rate down and would lessen the blood flow. 

_One, two, three, four –_

“ ** _Shit_** , Jaha’s freaking out!” a voice yelled out from somewhere, and Wells hoped, no, he _**prayed**_ , that someone had come to help him, to save him. 

If they were quick they could get him to Clarke. If anyone could save him, it would be Clarke. 

_Five, six, seven, eight -_

“Hey! Jaha! Snap out of it, man,” the voice snapped again, and he felt hands grapple with his own, attempting to pull them away from his neck, trying to take away the pressure on his wound. 

Internally, Wells rolled his eyes at this. If everybody could spend more time listening to Clarke rather than following Blake around like he was some kind of king, they would actually learn that taking pressure off of a bloody wound was practically murder. 

_Or maybe, that was the point._

“No,” he wheezed out in a panic, fighting back against them. 

When he opened his eyes, he found himself staring up at a familiar gaze and fought back even harder. 

_Bellamy’s trying to kill me, he’s sent his good little henchmen to finish off that little girl’s job._

He actually had hope for the man when he rescued Clarke from the tiger trap, when he helped bring Jasper back, when he ordered Murphy not to harm him. But it seems that power would always crave more power, striking down anyone in their way. 

After him, there would only be one more person. And he would _**die**_ before he let that bastard harm her. 

Kicking out hastily at his would-be murderer, he screamed out the best he could for anyone, everyone. They may love the guy, but he doubted that they would just stand there and let him bleed out. And if that was the case, well, the crowd should be enough to tip off Clarke that trouble was afoot. 

“Jesus Christ, Wells, quit it. You’re not dying, you’re not fucking dying, man!” the boy above him hissed, quickly pulling away his hands and pinning him down, using his body weight to stop him from flailing, “Wells, Wells, __.”

“Get the hell off of me, Miller!” Wells hissed, bucking hard against the boy, “Get off of me!” 

“Not until you _calm the fuck down_ ,” Nathan Miller replied through gritted teeth, looking around quickly before barking off orders to his right, “Check the entrances. Make sure no one heard him and lemme know how much time we have.” 

“You got it, Miller!” Wells heard someone shout back before the space around them erupted in quiet mutters, hushed whispers and the shuffling of people taking up their tasks like the soldiers they had become in just a week after landing on Earth. Listening to them all jump at a command, not giving a mind to someone trying to _**murder him**_ right there in front of them, pissed him off to no end. No, it didn’t piss him off. It _broke_ him how people could act like this. It just showed what happened when power was put into the hands of a man like Bellamy Blake, and the people that served him. 

Turning back to Miller with fear starting to truly sink into his skin, he decided right than that if they were going to kill him, he wouldn’t lay down like a dog for them. If they wanted to be criminals, if they wanted to kill, they would look him in the eyes as they did so. 

“Let me up, Miller,” Wells demanded, his voice breaking and causing it to come out more as a plea, “Let me stand. Let me meet death standing.” 

“Wells,” Miller sighed, sitting back and getting off of him so that the light from the – tent? – shone in his eyes before he told him, “You’re not going to die. Look down.” 

Wells’ brows furrowed at the boy’s odd behavior but did what he asked and grew even more confused. There was no blood soaking his shirt, staining his fingers. There was no knife, no curved, rusty metal glinting out of his peripheral vision. He was clean, seemingly unharmed and it made no sense at all because he could see it vividly, _feel it_ like it was still jammed inside his neck – 

“What is this?!" Wells gasped out, stumbling back and dabbing at his neck, bringing his fingers out to inspect them for anything, even the smallest drop of blood but coming back with nothing, “What have you done to me!?” 

“I’ll tell you everything you wanna know, Jaha, as soon as you _calm down_ ,” Miller directed with a huff, getting up from the cot they were sitting on and taking a seat on the one right beside them so that he sat opposite of him, with his hands clasped in his lap. 

The boy looked like he would wait all night for him to compose himself, hell, Miller suddenly looked like he had waited years for stuff more important than the composure of the son of the Chancellor his dad worked for and it didn’t make sense, _none of it_ made sense. Where was the girl, Charlotte, who had sat beside him on the hill, watching the sun rise over the trees before the red of the sky became the red of his vision with a violent stab of a knife? 

_What did Bellamy tell her that would possess a kid to kill me?_

_Did he threaten her? Did Bellamy threaten that girl, because if he did, I swear on my father’s life, I'll kill the man for thinking he could abuse the power he took –_

“I can see you’re confused and angry,” Miller spoke up, bring his attention back on him as the boy cleared his throat, looking uncomfortable to be having this conversation with him, “God knows that this isn’t my forte. Bellamy and Clarke should be here talking to you right now – “ 

“Clarke’s with Bellamy? Where did he take her? What is he planning? If he laid one hand on her – “ 

“Woah,” Miller exclaimed with raised brows as he stopped Wells from getting up, pushing him down gently and muttering to himself, “I _really_ shouldn’t be the one doing this.” 

“Just _tell me_ what’s going on, Miller!" Wells yelled angrily, shaking off the hand on his shoulder. 

“What do you remember? Before you woke up?” 

“Some girl stabbing me in the neck – Charlotte, I think her name was. Hangs around Bellamy and the boys a lot. Did he put her up to it?” 

“ _Shit_ ,” Miller rubbed at his jaw in contemplation, murmuring to more to himself than to Wells, “So, it happened to you too.” 

“What do you mean ‘it happened to me too’? _What_ happened? Where are we? This doesn’t look like any tent we scavenged from the dropship.” 

“I don’t know how to tell you this, like I said, it should be Bellamy and Clarke – “ 

“Just tell me.” 

“Where do you want me to start?” Miller asked with a dry scoff, eyes dark and full of bitterness as he muttered, “When the world ended for you or when the world ended for the rest of us?” 

And just like that, Wells knew that nothing in his life would make sense again. 

\- 

#### CLARKE GRIFFIN

As soon as that horn sounded, Clarke had taken off. The ground beneath her boots was firm, a solid and reliable track that led her to a familiar cleft in the ground. Without needing to think about it, she knelt down and groped around in the dirt looking for the handle. When her fingers brushed against the cool metal, a strangled, giddy laughter tore loose from her throat. 

It was still there, therefore, it was still the same earth she had once known, with it’s little gifts and hiding spots. She had ripped open the car door and jumped into the cramped little space, smaller than she remembered from the first time her, Finn and Wells came upon it but it had to do. 

Quickly taking off her jacket, she wedged the cloth at the lining, covering any holes the toxic fog could breach. When she ran out of cloth, she remembered that the last time she was in that situation, there were a lot more jackets and clothes to go around. This time, she had the freedom and the need to strip as far down as her singlet without worrying about death or the humiliation of being undressed in a car with her best friend and her then crush for hours on end. It was this time, that she spent hours thinking about those two boys, and how she was going to have to deal with all the old ghosts that had come back to life in the span of only a morning. Since she had woken up, Clarke had tried not to think about what it meant to see those people again. _All_ of them. 

What could she say to explain _this_ to them? To explain all the time that had past since those suddenly simpler first days on the ground? How would she explain the lives she had to take in the Mountain to Wells or the fact she had fallen in love with the Commander that ordered his death to Finn? How would she explain that Praimfaya was on it’s way in a little over a year to Lexa and the rest of the Coalition? 

They had so many things they needed to do but it was these two boys that she began thinking about first, fretting over in that small little car they had once sat in, passing back and forth an old bottle of Scotch. Clarke pulled it out at one point to look over it as she thought about how she was going to deal with the return of so many, so many people that they had lost, that they had failed, that, for some, that had fallen by their hand. 

Wells, her best friend, her brother in every sense but blood, was alive out there somewhere, probably with his father if she knew Jaha. No matter what life, he would want his son as close as possible. She remembered the hopelessness that broke out on his face when he realized his son was well and truly dead and hated herself for having been the one to tell him that. She wondered if her decision to send Jasper out there with a message to leave his father behind was really a good idea. If she was lucky, she might get to him first and give him a choice without the manipulations she planted. A choice to live with the burden of a thousand futures or a choice to live with the father who once lost him too soon and didn’t know the thousand different ways he could lose him again. 

Yes, she would give him a choice. But she would also give him the things she never managed to give him back in her time, in that small span of time between finally discovering the truth about her mother’s involvement in her father’s death and the time Wells got killed by Charlotte. She assumed that if she was still a prisoner of the Skybox in this life, than her crimes were the same. Her father was dead and it was because of her mother’s trust in Kane. While that may be long forgiven in Clarke’s mind, her mother still lived thinking that secret was Wells’ burden alone, just as Wells still lived thinking that Clarke still hated him. She needed to remedy that before any choice was offered because if he chose to stay, she wanted him to continue living knowing she knew he was innocent of any crimes except that of being a good friend. 

And Finn…….She didn’t know where to start with Finn. Wells, she had all the answers for. Finn, she couldn’t even _think_ of facing him again, let alone trying to figure out how to _actively **deal**_ with him. She had killed him, he had killed for her. His love for her – or whatever the hell it was – drove him to massacre an entire village. There would be many conflicts in the future that would put her life in jeopardy, conflicts with people that she ultimately promised Jasper she would seek peace with. She couldn’t risk Finn going off the rails everytime she put herself on the frontline. 

But she couldn’t very well send him away. Raven would never forgive her. Finn would fight it tooth and nail. And Jasper would agree that second chances were for _everyone_ , meaning Finn too. It wasn’t that she _didn’t_ care about him, that she didn't want to give him that second chance at life. That was far from the truth. When she found out about Raven, it had _ripped her apart_ inside. She had given him everything, her vulnerability, her crimes, her virginity – only to find out the next morning he was in love with someone else. 

And even then, even though he dealt her a wound that bled everyday she had to see them together, she still cared. She had been _shaking_ when she performed surgery on him after he was stabbed by Lincoln with a poisoned knife, went as far as to torture the Grounder just a few levels up from where he lay dying. She had broken down in Miller’s arms inside the dropship when she thought she burnt Bellamy and Finn alive in the Ring of Fire alongside the three hundred Grounder warriors and when she escaped the Mountain and came back to find him gone, still out looking for her, all she could think about was getting back to _him_. 

But than she heard the gunfire. And her heart had shuddered. 

She remembered climbing the hill to the village, remembered everything slowing down until she could hear her pants and the blood rushing to her ears. And then she saw _him_. Gun in hand, bullets flying in loud, terrifying flashes of golden light. And blood, so much blood, seeping the dirt around his boots as bodies fell one by one. She couldn’t hear their cries, their screams, their prayers mumbled in a language she had yet to learn. 

She could only hear _him_ , a murderous roar escaping his throat as he gunned them _all_ down. Men. Woman. Children. The elderly. All the while Murphy screamed at him to stop. But he wouldn’t, he wouldn’t stop. 

And it was then that she remembered that she had a voice that he wouldn’t dare silence. 

_" **FINN!** ”_ she had shouted, her horror, disgust and fear seeping out of her and echoing around the forest. 

And he had stopped. 

She remembered the guilt that flooded her entire body when she realized that it all it would have taken was _her_ voice, _her_ command and he would have stopped. That would have been about, what, ten people that would have lived? 

It was the look in his eyes that haunted her the most. It was a look of awe, as if his bullets were his prayers, the bodies of his victims his offerings and her the goddess that came to answer them. He looked at her in a sort of justified reverence as if his actions were the sole reason she had appeared before him. As if it was by killing those people that he had gotten her back. 

It was a look that had rattled her bones and made her step back when he tried to approach her. That made her shiver whenever he looked at her imploringly or adoringly, that made her flinch when he tried to touch her, that made her feel sick to the stomach when she saw him, even at a distance. She remembered the feeling well because it had haunted her all the way until his death. 

_His_ death at _her_ hands. Her 'mercy killing' was the thing about Finn Collins that undid her the most. She loved him, in her way, in the short time they spent together, and even after she found out he was with another, she had **_loved_** him, and that had been the moment she truly became Wanheda. It wasn't bringing down the mountain that earned her that moniker, as everyone else thought. It was when she was willing to take the life of someone she loved to save the lives of her people. 

_Second chances, second chances, second chances._

It rang in her head like a goddamn bell, reminding her of the promise she made to Jasper. To not just survive but to _live_. Second chances for everyone, enemies and friends. It was easy for Jasper to say, he had a very little of either by the time he died. And now he was going into the world again with brand new eyes thinking everyone had the opportunity to be good. She _**wanted**_ to believe that. Hell, Monty had given her a fucking motto that she uttered every single day she spent in Sanctum and where did that get her? **Dead** , if it wasn’t for the fact she had once housed the Flame in her head and was able to create a livable mind space. Otherwise she would have been gone the minute the Primes had inserted Josephine Lightborn inside her head. 

_Second chances, second chances, second chances._

It was a phrase that echoed in her head the whole time she was in that car, all the way up to when the toxic gas had receded and the natural light of the sun flickered through the dirty, stained glass windows. But still, she took a moment more to settle on a decision that wasn’t created out of survival, or fear of confronting the boy she loved, the boy she feared and the boy who was suddenly her new moral compass. 

And it was that boy’s words and the words of his best friend that helped her decide that _second chances, second chances, second chances_ may as well be on her business card. She felt like she was going to be handing a lot of those out by the time she was done and dusted on this earth. But make no mistake, she wasn’t called _**Wanheda**_ for nothing. She hated the name with a passion, the fear that followed it was a stain on her very soul but she would gladly take it up again if anyone tried to take away the future she had just gotten back. 

Even if it meant risking Jasper Jordan’s wrath and Monty Green’s disappointment. It was a risk she would gladly take if it meant they were still alive when she was done. 

\- 

#### WELLS JAHA

“Let me get this straight,” Well sighed, rubbing at the lines on his forehead with a tired hand before continuing, “Charlotte killed me, Charlotte sacrificed herself so Murphy would stop fighting Clarke and Bellamy, Clarke and Bellamy started working together to lead all of you, they fought the Grounders but the Grounders overtook the camp so you guys killed them but than the ‘Mountain Men’ came and took you all to Mount Weather where we previously couldn’t go because of the border?” 

“Yeah, because the Grounders were afraid of them so they didn’t want people trespassing over into that territory because they didn’t want them to turn on the acid fog, which the Mountain Men control,” Miller clarified with a heavy sigh, looking around at the others, who had stopped to listen to him, with a shrug. 

Wells gave him a short nod that showed _just how much_ he thought about his explanation before continuing with a growing sarcasm, “Clarke escaped, made a treaty with the Grounders, we got our people back and defeated the Mountain Men, Clarke left and was on the run, Clarke came back and stayed with the Grounders, my dad and the rest of the Ark came to Earth and Dad went off to the desert and came back with a genocidal AI who was responsible for the first nuclear apocalypse, turned everybody into zombies -” 

“Yeah, but to be fair, your dad was in kind of a bad place after you died so he thought he was doing everyone a favor by discovering this _so-called_ ‘City of Light’,” Miller explained softly, settling back on his cot and laying an arm over his eyes as he muttered, “Which turned out to be a story based on a bunch of satellites, figures.” 

The other boy blinked at him, about to open his mouth to question that before deciding one crazy explanation at a time and continuing, “Clarke defeated them but it turned out the nuclear plant was melting and that meant there was another nuclear radiation storm coming, everybody started working with everybody but everybody started killing everybody until Octavia killed _a lot_ of people and _won_ you all a bunker.” 

“A fucking nightmare that was,” one of the kids muttered, a boy who looked no older than sixteen, sitting on the floor with his head leaning against the cot on the other side of the tent from him, “A fucking nightmare _she_ was.” 

“Shut the hell up, Bobby,” Miller snapped, jerking up from his cot to pin the boy with a glare, “It was eat or _die_. She didn’t have a choice.” 

“Whatever the hell you tell yourself to sleep at night, Miller.” 

He ignored the boy’s comment and turned back to Wells, who was looking at him with one brow raised in questioning and decided almost immediately he was so _not_ going there right now, right here, with a whole fucking room of kids who hadn’t even made it as far as ALIE. Instead, Miller just waved a hand for Wells to continue. 

Wells stared at him a minute more before doing as he was urged, “So all of you – except Bellamy, Clarke, Monty, Harper and a few other people, stayed in this bunker for seven years until they came to rescue you. Then you all had a war over the last habitual area of Earth with a bunch of space criminals from the Eligius IV mission and basically destroyed the earth more than it had already been destroyed. Anything else?” 

“You forgot the bit where we all ended up jumping onto their spaceship, sailing through the universe while we slept in cryo chambers for over a hundred years before we woke up over this planet – which actually turned out to be a moon – called Sanctum. We settled down on the planet, met the Primes, said we were going to do things better and then they killed Clarke. But they didn’t _actually_ kill Clarke, they actually just made it so there were two people living in her head. She defeated the other chic, the Primes’ long dead daughter, came back and defeated the Primes with their enemies called the Children of Gabriel – “ 

“Sounds like a boy band,” teased a girl with long, soft brown hair as she giggled from where she was laying between her boyfriend’s legs as he sat up in his cot. 

Miller rolled his eyes at her before amending, “Yeah, Trina, if boy bands were an extremist cult whose lives were dedicated to killing a bunch of immortal body snatchers than, _yes_ , we worked with a _boy band_.” 

“So after Clarke defeated the body snatchers, everybody lived happily ever after? Is _that_ what you’re trying to tell me?” Wells asked incredulously. 

“I haven’t even gotten to crazy part, Jaha,” Miller snorted, sitting up straight as he explained, “I’m pretty sure all of _this_ – “ 

He waved his hands around to the room as he said, “The reason we’re all alive, is because of this thing called _the Anomaly_.” 

“The Anomaly?” 

“That’s what the Children of Gabriel called it, anyway. The last thing I remember before I woke up on an a planet I distinctly remember being _a hundred light years away_ , was a flash of green light speeding towards us. A few hours before hand, Bellamy and his sister went out to investigate it.” 

“What was it?” 

“Well, from space, one of our people said it looked like a giant worm hole,” Miller said warily, frowning slightly as he tried to explain, “Look, I’m not good at all that science shit, I’ll leave that up to Raven to explain, but from what I can remember, it was - .” 

“I know what a worm hole is. There were theories about the possibilities of what one might find on the other side of one, theories that span long before the first nuclear war, “ Well mumbled quietly, more to himself than Miller, but the other boy still caught the gist of it and straightened up as he listened to Wells go on, “There were lots of theories that suggested that time travel might be a possible aspect of a worm hole, saying that going through one could send someone to an alternate universe or timeline – “ 

The boy froze up as he realized what this meant for them if Miller’s story was the truth before he asked cautiously, “You’re not lying to me right now, are you?” 

Miller leaned forward before whispering, “Do you remember the two kids who went missing on our third, fourth day on Earth? Do you remember their names?” 

Wells thought about it for a moment, thinking back on the whispers that circulated the camp, the tension that clouded the air the morning of their fourth day on the ground, the names tinged in worry on everybody’s lips and his eyes immediately flew open, locking on the couple embracing on the cot over Miller’s shoulder. 

Although the girl had been giggling before, and still wore a small, content smile on her lips, her fingers were clenched around her the cloth just over her boyfriend's knees and his arms were tight around her body as he pulled her closer to his chest, as if determining to them both that they would never let go. Whenever there was a slight hitch in her breathe, his arms would lock up and her fingers would immediately start to rub circles on his knee in reassurance that she was alive, that he was alive and that they were still _breathing_. 

And that’s when he realized. 

“What were their names, Jaha?” 

The boy and the girl turned their heads to look at him, and in their eyes, their story was told. They had known shadow, they had know darkness and, at some point in time, they had known **death**. 

“Trina and Pascale,” Wells whispered in a slow dawning horror as the truth hit him like a lightning strike from the gods, the fates, the universe that had inexplicably brought him, and clearly the two recently deceased kids, _back to life_. 

\- 

#### CLARKE GRIFFIN

The sun was beginning it’s decent in the sky when Clarke inched herself out of the car, an hour after the acid fog receded back to it’s master's lair. She wasted no more time than she had already as she sprinted through the forest in the direction she was confident she would find the Ark’s base camp, silently praying that Sargent Miller and his men had found a safe place to wait out the new and deadly threat. 

She looked for their bodies, any sign that they might have not made it in time as she ran as fast as she could, eyes darting for a million things at once. It reminded her of her time in exile, when she was always on her guard for a bounty hunter looking to steal the powers of the almighty Wanheda by freeing her head from her shoulders or even the passing mutated black cat that was on the look out for its next meal. More often than not, it would find itself becoming hers as she fought for food every single day for three months. 

This time, she had other things to worry about. Like Tristan and his riders still roaming the area, or the Mountain Men on a scouting mission to collect more Grounders for their cages. Maybe even a Reaper or two, although she doubt they would be out this early in the day time. 

Her fingers clenched around her gun and she had to chide herself many times not to unsheathe it. She couldn’t let that become a habit again, because if she told herself it was justifiable to have her hands on a weapon, than she might fool herself into thinking it’s justifiable to use it. Whatever she might have said, whatever she might have _let_ herself thought back in that car, she couldn’t act on it. She _wouldn’t_ act on it for as long as she had the ability to. 

Her heart burned as she pushed herself faster and faster until she had been running for a little more than an hour and the sky had turned lilac, the trees cast in a darkness that caused goosebumps to erupt along her skin as the cold chill of the late afternoon teased at her hair and at her neck. She had survived in worse conditions, with worse enemies, in worser times than these. She would be fine; she just had a little further to go and – 

**_“Let’s have some fun with this one,”_** she heard a voice cackle through the air. 

It made her freeze on the spot, her muscles locking up as she cocked her head to listen for it again. The voice was a masculine one, too deep and too rough to be that of a woman’s. The speaker wasn’t a Grounder, for they spoke in English so that left only one option. 

_Arkadian._

Creeping forward over the slight hill of dirt and twisted root, Clarke sank down on her stomach to peer over, cringing slightly from the sudden exposure to light before her eyes adjusted enough for her to process what she was seeing. And immediately, she made the decision to pull the gun from her sheath. Because there, in the middle of the pit, was a dropship. The door was open and on it’s metal ground sat seven kids, all tied up and bound to each other by the wrist. And in front of them, held over the fireplace, was a girl, thrashing in the arms of two Ark guardsmen. 

A short girl with dark curly brown hair that hung around her face was screaming up a storm, kicking fiercely at their feet as they teased her over the burning flames, the fiery tendrils licking out and catching minute strands of hair before she was pulled away and forward into the guardsman’s laughing faces. 

“ **MEL! MEL!** ”, a familiar looking boy with brown hair falling around his eyes from the group screamed out, “ **GET YOUR FILFTHY HANDS OFF OF HER, YOU BASTARDS**.” 

“Shut the hell up, kid, before I drop your pretty little girlfriend into the firepit and be done with her!” one of the guardsman spat back, lowering the shrieking girl a bit to prove his point. 

“Sterling, Sterling!” the girl, Mel, cried hysterically, grappling at the guard’s jackets to keep from falling in further, “Just listen to what they say – “ 

“ ** _Shut it_** , you little _bitch_ ,” the guardsman snapped, raising his meaty palm in the air with a menacing grin, “Or _I’ll_ shut it for you.” 

Mel spat in the man’s face in response, her whisper rising above the flickering and the hisses of the flames, loud enough to reach Clarke’s ears from atop of the dirt pile she laid on and strong enough to bring about the anger in the guardsman’s dark, beady eyes. 

“Go _float_ yourself.” 

He brought his hand down as if to strike her but before Clarke could shoot him, a small, dark shape made a bee line straight towards him, clashing straight into his back. Caught by surprise, the guard loosened his grip on Mel, who pulled herself out from his meaty fists and pulled aside the small body behind him. The two of them kicked out, tripping him over so he fell forward……right into the fire. 

The agonizing scream of the guardsman filled the night sky, a painful and animalistic shriek that sounded like it had been violently ripped from ravaged vocal chords. While his comrade quickly went about trying to help him out of the fire pit, patting down the still burning chars of skin on his face and hair, the two girls that had pushed him had turned around to quickly release their friends out of their bounds, picking up rocks and sharp sticks to rub at the binds. 

“ **You two!** " the other guardsman’s voice shouted out from behind them, causing them to freeze in their efforts, “Stand up with your hands behind your head and turn around _slowly_.” 

The two girls shared a look, Mel turning back to the boy who’s binds she had been working on with a sad, apologetic glance before doing as she was told, placing her hands behind her head and turning around slowly, tremoring in fear as she and the young girl beside her came face to face with the barrel of a gun. 

“Get on your knees. **NOW!** ” the guardsman commanded, shaking the gun at them emphasis. The click of the safety turning off had her knees hitting the ground at a harsh and painful angle but she rather break her knee caps several times over than have a bullet in the brain. 

Death was a thousand times worse than whatever the fuck this guy had in store for them. 

“You’re gonna _pay_ for that,” the man sneered, bringing the barrel to press hard against her forehead as he mocked her, “ _What?_ No smartass comments?” 

Mel swallowed back the bile that had started to rise in her throat before she tilted her head back to face him. And her eyes widened at what she saw. 

A cool metal pressed firmly into the back of the guardsman’s head as a low, silky voice whispered his same words in his ear as he tremored, “ _What?_ No smartass comments?” 

And out from the shadow behind him came Clarke Griffin, gun in hand and steel in her eyes as she shifted the barrel of her own gun so that it danced around the fringes of his hairline until it settled right between his eyes. 

“Gun?” she asked whistle making it clear she wasn’t _really_ asking, holding out her hand expectantly for the weapon he still held against Mel’s head. 

The guardsman, more concerned for his life rather than his pride like any _smart person would be_ , quickly held up his gun, pressing it into the girl’s waiting hands as he begged, “ _Please_ – “ 

“Knife?” she asked again, brow lifting slight as she heard a sob catch in his throat before he slid a knife out from his sheath and held it out for her once more. When she grabbed it and went to sheath it into the side of her boot, he tried to make a grab for her gun. 

Keyword: _Tried_. 

_Not so smart after all._

Clarke immediately swung her legs out, tripping up his and sending him crashing to his knees. The girl with the golden blonde hair towered over him, her shadow casting darkness upon his face as the fire behind her lit her up in an almost benevolent glow that had him shivering in his boots as she once again rose the gun to his temple. 

“My name is Clarke Griffin. And I have a message for the Ark,” she declared, lips curling slightly when the man’s eyes widened at her last name before she continued, “Don’t look for us. Don’t come for us. And don’t worry, we’ll be in touch.” 

The last thing he saw before she bashed the gun into the side of his head was the grins on the kids faces as they stared up at the daughter of Abby Griffin, one of the most prominent and well respected members of the council. Abby Griffin, who was now and would forever be, the mother of a renown and revered rebel leader. 

_Of course, he didn’t know that. Not yet, anyway._

Clarke turned around to face the other kids, prepared to give them “the talk”. You know, the one kids would normally get when they returned from the dead to a world frothing at the brim with threats that would be eager to kill them for the second time over when she came face to face with a ghost she really hoped she would manage to avoid. 

Possibly one of her earliest and saddest ghosts from her time on Earth. 

“Clarke?” the little blonde girl in front of her gasped as fear and regret sparked in her dark, brown eyes. 

Clarke didn’t know what to say and instead settled for a small, sad smile as she whispered back. 

“Hello, Charlotte.” 

\- 

#### NATHAN MILLER

“Hey Miller, heads up!” Bobby whispered loudly from where he was peering out from the tent flaps, “Your old man is heading this way.” 

Nathan Miller’s jaw tightened at that as he got to his feet with a heavy sigh, muttering to Wells, “Show time.” 

“ _Show time_?” Wells repeated incredulously, following the other boy as he stood up, “What are we going to do now? Are you going to tell them everything, you know, about the future?” 

“What? _No_ ,” the other boy scrunched his face up at the stupid idea before he shook his head, “No, none of us are going to do _anything_ but sit tight til’ Clarke or Bellamy come for us. My bets on Clarke though, she has a knack for these sorts of rescue ops, so I give her an hour. The sun started to set about an hour ago, so I suspect she’s probably close by now.” 

“How do you know this?” 

Miller raised a brow, leaning forward to see through the flap Bobby held open before pulling open his jacket to show Wells the clipboard stuffed inside, “Lifted this off my dad before he left to get the other kids from the dropships. As far as I can tell, there were eight dropships deployed before your dad brought the entire Ark down from space. I’ve heard reports back from Farm Station just a bit south from here and Mecha way up north but nothing on the others.” 

“The _entire_ Ark?” 

“Yep. It happened last time too, but Farm and Mecha were in very……. hostile places. So, it looks like we dodged a bullet.” 

“Alright not gonna question that right now. So, where’s the nearest dropship?” 

“There’s two, about two hundred meters from the perimeter they set up,” Miller explained before he trailed off as the flap to the tent was pushed open and in walked Sargent Miller. 

His eyes did a full mapping of the room before settling on where his son and the son of the Chancellor were standing just off to the side. His eyes softened a bit at that before he stood up, straight and tall and announced, “Prisoners of the Ark, we’ve come to take you to the courtyard where the Chancellor will explain to you about how your crimes on the Ark will be dealt with down on Earth. Get in a single line formation and please follow me.” 

Miller’s shoulders sagged a bit at that as he leaned in to whisper to Wells, “Good ole’ dads and their good ole’ speeches.” 

“I never did ask why you were a prisoner,” Wells mumbled back, eyes narrowed on the guardsman waiting for them to get in line, “What made you do it?” 

“Don’t we all want to do what we’re good at?” Nathan muttered nonchalantly before heading over and beginning the line, looking up at his father with slight shrug as he greeted, “So, we’re still prisoners now.” 

David Miller just raised a brow at his son before tapping hard on his chest where the clipboard was as he said, “Still gonna act like one, Nate?” 

The boy rolled his eyes before pulling the clipboard out and handing it to him with a sigh, “Just wanted to know where my friends were, didn’t know _that_ was a crime these days.” 

His father placed a hand on his shoulder, eyes softening at the creases as he murmured, “It’s not, Nate. Stealing is. But you might be surprised about the Chancellor’s mercy now that we're all on the ground.” 

The barely contained excitement in his father’s voice brought about a bittersweet smile to Miller’s face as he snarked, “I doubt it.” 

Shaking his head at the boy, his father turned to the rest of the kids in the line behind his son and nodded In satisfaction before walking out. 

When Miller first woke up, he thought that he was in a dream. One of those dreams he used to have during the first few days in the bunker from Hell, dreams of being back on top of the earth again. Where the sky was blue, the sun was gold and the trees were green and everywhere. Where beautiful, decaying, ancient structures rose strong into the sky, hovering over what was left of the human race. His people from the Ark, on the ground with a sort of freedom that made their jaws slack with easy smiles, eyes bright with hope and happiness and their bodies relaxed as they took to the world around them. 

Where there was no war, no blood, no fear. Where he would walk around with his hand in Jackson’s, could still be friends with Bryan without fearing his despair, where he would see Clarke and Bellamy finally sitting down having a drink – probably with Raven and Murphy. Octavia would come through the gates from her early morning ride on her horse with Lincoln not too far behind her. And at the gate would be his father. Guardsmen uniform all sleek and shiny in the early morning sun, and finally standing for protection and responsibility rather than corruption and enforcement like those rip off guards who tried to follow in his footsteps. 

This was like a dream. _Except_ it was also a fucking _**nightmare**_. 

His father was alive. Jaha was alive. Abby was alive – he didn’t know what to make of _that_ when he saw her and Kane arguing in the hallway when he was led out of the room he had been in when Alpha station was deployed. Everybody was alive and they were on earth again. A _different_ earth but the _same_ earth - he had no clue what earth it was or when it was or any of that shit. 

_Where was Raven when you need her?_

All he knew was that everyone was alive, they were back on a _living_ earth and nobody but him seemed to remember the last one hundred and fifty-two years. Nobody remembered anything of when he and the hundred were first dropped on the ground as a part of Jaha’s sick science experiment to see if the earth was breathable. 

As far as these dumbasses knew, they had sent one person down in a pod – the same Exodus pod that Raven had originally came down in - to radio back if they were able to breathe. Nobody told him the name of that person, all they could say was that as soon as they radioed back that they were in the all clear, the Ark was ready and prepared to launch eight dropships mixed with both Skybox prisoners and normal citizens, so as to avoid any attempts of larger groups of Delinquents escaping from their guards. 

_Bad move on their part. Smaller groups are able to have create a more coordinated attack, especially when the guardsman ratio to prisoners is 1: 3._

Miller _would_ have informed his father that the first thing the kids were going to do was to jump ship and get the hell out of dodge, but than he heard Bobby call out to him from behind. Robert “Bobby” Stanhope was one of the original hundred who had survived all the way up to the bunker. And that was the end of his luck, because about three years in, he died in the fighting pits after volunteering himself as his father’s proxy when the old man got caught giving his rations to others. 

_You eat or you die. It wasn’t called the Dark Year for nothing._

It was _because_ of those seven years of hell that he was thankful his own father never got to experience it. When he woke up and found out David Miller was one of the people outside, he wanted nothing more than to run out there and sit beside him, waiting for Praimfaya together. But he knew that it would kill his father more if he joined him. 

So, he did as his father would have done. For seven years, he stuck by Octavia’s side. He stuck by her through the early days of missing their friends, the loved ones they had lost, in pushing through the pain and heaviness they felt by training hard. He stuck by her through the First Rebellion, the riots that had killed Jaha Snr and that ultimately solidified Wonkru and their leader. He stuck by her when the food was sparse and the morale was sparser. When Abby pressured her to start looking for other food resources – such as their own people. 

He remembered that day the woman had come up with the idea. He, Indra, Gaia and Niylah had sat down in Octavia’s quarters and listened to the girl retch for hours. He was with her when she cried about how she couldn’t force this law, how she couldn’t force them to _eat_ their friends, their family. It was Indra who cleaned her up, who wiped her face and told her that _ **if they don’t eat, they die**_. That if they don’t eat, _no one_ would be leaving the bunker alive in the next few years. It was that day, when Octavia begged the people to eat, on her knees, that was burned into his brain because he remembered the exact moment she lost hope that it was going to be an easy leadership, that the hard times were over. 

Octavia’s first execution was the moment those hard times truly started, when she first became Blodreina. Still he stuck by her. When he saw the cuts on her arms and the blood on her face, when she declared the fighting pits to be the consequences of any action against the good of Wonkru. When he stood beside her as she sat on her throne and tears slid down her face as they warred for their lives. Until years went by, and she stopped feeling anything at all. The tears stopped, her voice grew raspy and dangerous and she started embracing herself like the old gods the Grounders used to look up to in order to maintain her leadership. Even when Abby and Kane turned against her, she stood strong and unhesitant in her choices. 

Miller stood by the first girl on the ground even when she was murdered in front of his eyes. 

It was one of his deepest regrets, a regret that Bobby knew deeply as he had approached him, looking like the same boy who had ran out of the dropship on that first day on Earth. That was that moment when Bobby looked him in the eye that Miller knew all hope wasn’t lost if he and Bobby, both members of the hundred, knew of the darkest times in their previous lives, now alike bad dreams compared to the life they had woken up in that morning. Because if they remembered, everyone else also had to remember. 

He started putting together the theory of the Anomaly around midday, after he and Bobby were put into a tent on the far side of Alpha and were quickly joined by Pascale and Trina, clutching each other tightly as they whispered to Bobby and Miller about what happened to them, and why their bodies were never found. 

So, he held his tongue, let his father walk out those gates armed to the teeth with guns and weaponry, and hoped to whatever the hell had turned his life upside down that his friends already sprouted their revolutionary escape plans so they didn’t have to fight his father. When he watched his father and his men return an hour or two after midday without any of the hundred in sight, he knew he was right. 

His friends _were_ out there somewhere, and they _**remembered**_. It was only a matter of time until they came for the rest of them in the main camp. 

Speaking of, as they were led out into the courtyard, people stopped and stared. Miller internally scoffed at this. He always wondered how things would have gone if they weren’t in the Mountain when the Ark fell from space. 

Deep down, he always knew it would go a little something like this. 

Jaha was all front and centre, surrounded by the Council. Kane and Abby were on either side, his second in commands even though they allowed them all to be treated like this, like _actual_ criminals. How Abby could think Clarke would willingly come back to be reduced to _prison labor_ , he didn’t know. Clarke, even before the dropship, was infamous for her stubborn and passionate ideologies that she had shared with her late father, Jake Griffin. 

He remembered his father always used to come home with stories about the little Griffin girl, about how she had a whip-like mind like her mother and a strong heart like her father. He even predicted she would make a fine Council member one day. 

Miller, now, shook his head with a small grin at the thought. Clarke was made to be so much _more_ than a Council member. Having known the girl for over a hundred years, he knew that she was meant to be a leader of a more radical, more diverse and more open-minded community than the one the Ark offered. 

_Spring us soon, Griffin. Get us the hell out of here._

Miller’s father led them to stand in front of the Council, positioning them so they stood in a straight line. Miller ended up in front of Abby, with Wells beside him staring straight back and unflinching towards his father. Miller remembered the last time he had seen the old Chancellor, when he was bleeding out on the bunker floor while Kane said the Traveler’s Ode, his last words were ‘ _Take me to Wells_.’ 

The last time he had seen Kane was when he had woken up in his new body, distraught visible on his stolen face as he stared in horror at the woman he loved when he realized what she did to bring him back to life. He never liked the Council, never liked Kane in particular – he was a grade A asshole on the Ark and _happened_ to be the motherfucker who caught him mid-lift – but he remembered the way he seemed to change into a different person on the ground. When Miller came out of the Mountain, he saw a man clouded in sadness, in fear, in grim realization that power corrupted power, and that the measures people took to gain more power ultimately ruined themselves. He never did find out what made Kane a changed man. All Miller knew was that the one standing next to Jaha was the same dickhead who caught him and threw him into the Skybox without even letting his dad know he was in there. 

Marcus Kane stood stiff and tall; nose stuck in the air like putting it even higher made him more superior than he was if it was an inch lower. His face was clean shaven, and his dark eyes were cold and calculating as he turned his head slightly to glance at Abby Griffin, standing on the other side of their Chancellor, doing all she could not to look at him. 

Abby Griffin. 

The last time he had seen the woman, the _real_ Abby Griffin, she had disappeared into the palace to create the night blood formulas for the Primes. And never came back out. The only two people who witnessed Russell Lightborn _**murder**_ her were Raven and Jackson. They were both still sobbing when they threw the two of them in with the rest of them, and it was between choked sobs that Jackson explained what had happened. 

When Clarke had come back from the Eligius, she told them in a very dead tone what she had to do to defeat the Lightborns’, including killing the host of Simone Lightborn. Clarke had to float her own mother to save them all and Miller made up his mind than and there that if anyone _ever_ questioned her leadership again, **he** would be the one to put them in their place. No matter how many things had changed, no matter the second chances they had been given, he would remember everything they ever did, that _Clarke Griffin_ , ever did to save them. He just hoped that she would still remember enough that she would save them once again. 

A commotion to his right caught his attention as another group approached to join them. Eleven kids, four guards. They were led in single file, the guardsman directing them to line up in two lines behind the rest of them already gathered. Miller scanned the faces, catching sight of Connor, Lisa and Masayo. 

Connor was part of Bellamy’s milita, a very low ranking member who made the very unfortunate decision in taking an active part in Murphy’s lynching. A decision he would later pay with his life when Murphy took advantage of his sickened state to suffocate him. The boy kept his head low as he passed Miller and he silently wondered how _that_ reunion would go down. Probably very badly. 

_Looks like we have our hands full with this lot, guys._

Lisa and Masayo used to hang around Jasper and Monty, the latter having recalled their little “science experiments” during Earth Skills when they teamed up with a bunch of kids with an affinity for chemistry and practically set off a smoke bomb in the middle of Pike’s lesson. Miller remembered teaching those two girls how to shoot. Let’s just say, they should have been sent to the tent to make bombs with Raven rather than waste twenty bullets shooting dirt. 

Miller sighed as more of the kids walked past, coming to conclusion that these were the kids who came down with Farm station, when the last two came into view. 

A girl with long, ashy blonde hair swept forward with her head held high, clutching the hand of an Asian boy with dark hair that swept in front of his face and grew behind his ears. Both of them walked with their backs straight and age in their eyes that was older than perhaps every single person surrounding them. The pair of wise eyes landed on him and Miller felt like the floor drop out from beneath his feet as he gasped out. The last time he had seen such old eyes, they were behind a pre-recorded hologram where their life story of almost eighty years had played out in a matter of minutes, where they made them promise to take care of their son, where their last words were ones well taken into heart by the leaders they were directed to. 

_Do Better._

“Harper?” he whispered roughly, head whipping from the girl to the boy as his eyes grew glassy, “ _Monty_?” 

The two stopped in their tracks, mouths curling up in matching smiles as they beamed at him, breaking out of the orderly chain to run over to him. He felt them crash into him, their arms folding around him and bringing him into those warm hugs he thought he would never feel again. 

“ _Boy_ , are we glad to see you,” Monty Green murmured into his shoulder, hands tightening from where they were clasped at his back. 

Miller choked back a sob as he wheezed out, “I _can’t_ believe it.” 

“Neither can we,” Harper McIntyr whispered on his other side before she pulled back, tears glistening from her soft, youthful cheeks as she sniffed, before her tone changed into one of worry as she asked warily, “Jordan?” 

The boy grinned back at her with glassy eyes as he told his two, thought to be long gone, best friends, “You raised a good kid. And we did as you asked, we kept him safe, for the most part. And we will keep him safe again, if or when we will see him next.” 

Monty released a sigh of relief, clapping Miller on the back one last time as he brushed his tears away before asking, “What happened? How did this happen?” 

“I don’t know but I have my theories. Also, by the way, nice planet you picked out. _Real_ nice.” 

“ _Oh god_ , what did you do to it?” 

“To be fair, Monty, it wasn’t us this time.” 

“And we would love to hear all about it _later_ ,” Harper interrupted before it could turn into an argument, looking behind her shoulder at all the adults that had stopped to stare at the unusual emotional reunion taking place before them as she whispered tensely, “ _What’s the plan?_ ” 

“Wait for one of our gallant leaders to rescue us, apparently,” Wells muttered sarcastically from where he stood beside Miller, listening in on the whole conversation before he introduced himself, “You probably don’t remember me – “ 

He was cut off when Harper lunged forward to pull him into her warm embrace, his wide, surprised eyes meeting Miller and Monty’s amused ones from over her shoulder as the latter leaned forward with an easygoing smile to whisper, “You’ll get used to it.” 

“It’s good to see you, Wells,” Harper murmured happily in the boy’s ear, pulling back to beam up at him softly, “Clarke will be so happy you’re back.” 

“She really will,” Monty commented, taking Harper’s hand in his before adding in a slightly sarcastic tone, “Maybe we can take shifts at being the moral compass for those two, you know, if they ever end up showing up.” 

Harper swatted at his arm with a slight tsk before throwing a very dry apologetic smile over her shoulder at the Council before muttering once more, “We’ll talk later when we don’t have every eye in the square glued on us.” 

Miller nodded before turning back to the front as the two newcomers moved to the back of the group. Jaha took a moment to make sure all eyes were on him once more before clearing his throat and stating in a loud voice. 

“Prisoners of the Ark. You are here today to reevaluate your crimes, under the new circumstances of our homecoming to Earth. We will judge your crimes based on the severity and the amount of remorse for your actions before assigning a proper consequence and action to your duties as an Ark citizen, but be relieved that you are given the _privilege_ of keeping your lives.” 

“He considers _that_ a privilege?” Miller heard Bobby mutter from the other side of Wells under his breathe, “No one hold out hope for our punishments than.” 

Miller gritted his teeth as muffled laughter broke out amongst the group but was quickly silenced not by the guards, not by the Council, not by Jaha himself. It was silenced when Miller glanced over his shoulder and met every single one of their gazes with a warning glare, waiting until their was complete silence before turning back to front, careful to avoid the eyes of any of the adults witnessing the exchange. 

_I swear to God, if they get themselves killed barely a day into returning from the dead, I’m gonna murder them myself._

Jaha kept his eyes focused on the young Miller boy in the front row as he continued on, “Make no mistake. Your crimes _will_ be remembered. Your jobs will be focused primarily on that of rebuilding the Ark on the ground. The laws are the laws and just because we don’t have a significant need to take up the most severe punishment, any crime committed on the Ark will not go unpunished. Do you understand?” 

Nobody, none of them uttered a word in response. The silence went on for about a minute before Wells uttered under his breathe, “We understand.” 

Miller glanced sideways at the boy with a raised brow before he caught the look in his eyes. Full blown defiance glared up at their leaders under dark lashes, hands hanging low at his sides were now curled up in tight fists. His nostrils flared in barely contained anger at the declaration the boy’s father made that basically sentenced them as criminals and nothing more for the rest of their lives. 

It only made their resolve, their patience, their decision to wait much stronger. What were they waiting for? Well, depending on the answer, they might find out soon enough. 

Or, they might not realize until it was too late.


	7. || Prison Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Clarke, you might want to see this.”
> 
> The girl moved quickly at the excitement in his voice and stopped beside him, “What is it?”
> 
> He pointed a finger at the top of the fence and explained, “See the lights?”
> 
> “What about them?”
> 
> “They’re not on.”
> 
> “So?”
> 
> “Don’t you think it’s strange that they have enough power to have this huge spotlight going around every five minutes but not enough to turn on the lights on top of the fence?”
> 
> Clarke’s wide eyes met Glen’s, the boy wearing a crooked grin in amusement.
> 
> “They haven’t got the electric fence up yet,” she breathed out, eyes brightening in excitement.
> 
> “They haven’t got the electric fence up yet,” Glen confirmed, grinning wickedly.
> 
> Spinning around to face the rest of the kids, Clarke crouched down.
> 
> “Alright, new plan. Which one of you wants to help me steal a Rover?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys, I am sorry that I haven't updated in a while - as you can see it is going to be a very long chapter and I hope that makes up for the fact you haven't gotten a new one in like forever. It has been pretty stressful for me because with year 12, getting into Uni, family, friends, mental health and the fact this was thirty pages long in a word doc, I just couldn't take it.  
> I hope you enjoy the chapter, there are questions in the notes at the end of the chapter so if you would like to answer them and leave me your thoughts in the comments, that would be much appreciated and I would love to hear from you guys!

#### BELLAMY BLAKE || DAY 001 || 7:00 PM

Bellamy forgot how cold it turned during the night. Everything after Praimfaya felt too hot, sweltering, and feverish. The time spent during their return to the almost desolate planet was always dipped in a sunburnt haze, like something out of a nightmare featured in broad daylight. 

Now, returning to that same Earth almost eight years back in time, it was hard to think of that desolate planet and the one they walked on now as being one and the same. He didn’t think it was possible but the forest around them grew only more beautiful as the sun started to set and the sky turned a brilliant purple that set the trees around them in a dark, smokey haze. 

They had used the same torches from the caves and lit them once more so that they could find their way safely around the territory that was anything _but_ safe to them. They had paused several times at such small, seemingly innocent sounds like the creak of old trees or the sudden stop to a songbird’s song. Some would argue that they were being paranoid. Some would, but their well-intended reassurances would be dismissed for the stark reality that they had once lived, learned, and died. For some, it had taken all three to realize that on Earth, paranoia was **essential** for survival. 

Bellamy had trudged at the back of the group with Murphy, the guns they had commandeered from their respective guardsmen raised high. Not at the forest floor or at the sturdy trunks of trees in the distance. No, they wouldn’t see those types of Grounders yet. No, they suspected that they would send scouts to observe the foreign invaders. Scouts who would perch on the trees, dressed head to toe in camouflage with journals clutched tightly in their hands. Scouts like Lincoln who would be tasked with recording their numbers, weapons, military personnel. 

Their leadership. 

That was why Jasper volunteered to lead the group. He knew where he was going, was less aggressive and a hell of a lot surer of himself and wasn’t at all concerned for what him being seen as a leader by the scouts could imply to the Grounders. That last one had brought Bellamy up short, eyes narrowed when the boy gave him one of those crooked grins before turning with his own gun in hand and marching to the front, calling out to the others tauntingly to keep up. 

The only reason he didn’t pull the boy back was because of the answering mutters and jokes. Jasper had a way with people that set them at ease at the most intense moments that was needed. They wouldn’t have been able to make it to the bunker in time if they kept letting fear halt them every time they heard a twig snap or the bushes rustle. 

“It should be just up ahead,” Jasper called back along the line to Bellamy and Murphy. 

Mutters and heavy, exhausted sighs of relief were his answers as they hurried their pace, joined quickly by the older guardsman that Murphy had picked up. Bellamy still didn’t trust the loyalty of their new ally, if he could even call him that, but he trusted Murphy and if the cockroach himself didn’t find anything to be suspicious off, Bellamy could hold off from acting on his own until he did something to deserve it. 

“Are you kids ever gonna explain how you know where you’re going?” the old man asked in an extremely dubious tone, “You guys talk and act like you’ve done this all before.” 

“That’s because we have,” Bellamy grunted, not bothering to elaborate as he stormed ahead. 

He heard Murphy drawl in response, “ _Great_ , because that **really** clears things up for him.” 

Bellamy ignored his sarcasm, rolling his eyes. After spending seven years on the ring with Murphy, his snark and remarks no longer had the same grueling effect they once did. It became white noise, something he could easily tune out if he wanted but no longer felt the need to. 

He had to admit, seeing his friend show up in the body of his younger self was startling. Almost as startling as seeing Octavia at seventeen once more or even seeing Jasper alive. Everything from the moment he woke up was a test on his strength, on his heart and he wished he could say that he found it easy, to push back those thoughts and to focus on getting the kids to safety, to keeping a look out for grounders or an ear out for the horn but just like with everyone else, it was like instinct. 

Just as his old soul – he was thirty when the Anomaly came for them all but he had been technically alive for over a century so he has a right to consider himself old – settled into his younger body, he felt his youth emerge from within his soul. Which wasn’t entirely bad if you ignored the whole stage where he got three hundred people killed, shot Jaha, tortured Lincoln and was entirely prepared to doom the whole Hundred with that moronic phase ‘Whatever the Hell We Want’. 

_We are not doing that again._

_At least, not the way we did it last time._

_Do better_ , at least that was what he had taken to holding onto since they had woken up from cryo sleep. It was what he tried to lead with in Sanctum, even after the Primes killed Clarke. Even as Madi raged from beside him at the quiet little meetings they would have in the tavern, even as Emori and Echo – God, even as _Emori and Echo of all people_ pushed for the plan to avenge the girl, the woman who had saved their lives in Pramifaya, even as Miller growled lowly every time Josephine would enter the room, parading around in Clarke’s body like she owned it, Bellamy pushed on with talks of peace. 

Because it was **_her_** voice that reminded him of the promise they had made. 

_Do Better_ , Clarke would whisper as he let Murphy talk him into taking the hand extended by Russel, after he tore apart the chambers he had found himself locked in at the palace, even though he had screamed to those false gods he would rip apart their kingdom for what they had done to her. 

_Do Better_ , Clarke would sing in his ear as he would stare into the crystal blue eyes that used to belong to her, his hands clenching into fists as he pushed back that same wrath he felt when he realized that it wasn’t her, it wasn't her, it wasn't her. 

_Do Better_ , Clarke would scream as Russel shook his head in faux sadness, words like ‘casualty’ and ‘necessity’ thrown about like the girl who had dared to boss him around those first few days on the ground could become something that sounded so insignificant on the tongues of those who couldn’t fathom the hell she had been through, the hell she had become to survive, to ensure survival for her people. 

For their people. 

‘Do Better’ went to hell when he saw Josephine’s fingers, _her_ fingers, tapping in timed intervals that were too precise, too calculating, _too familiar_ to be anything but Morse code. He remembered that surge within him, when they were in that meeting, that shitty excuse for a peace talk, and he had been staring at her hands, Clarke’s hands, when the long, elegant digits that used to send such fear into an entire civilization started to move. 

For the first time in a long time, he remembered Charles Pike, his old Earth Skills mentor, back when they ran into the survivors of Farm Station. It was something Pike said when they had stopped at the sight of the Azgeda army, when he had mentioned trying to get back Clarke. 

_“Clarke Griffin?”_

_“Yeah?”_

_“If only all my Earth Skills students were as good as her.”_

Pike might have been twisted by his time on Earth into nothing short of a monster, as had they all, but before that he was a teacher. He cared about the kids under his tutelage and Bellamy glimpsed the pride of a mentor when the man spoke of Clarke, felt that same pride when he heard she was one of Pike’s best students. 

He remembered that conversation, remembered everything he himself had been taught by Pike and he knew that she was alive. He knew she was alive before he completed the message, before he translated what she was trying to communicate, before he had even started to write it down. He just **knew**. 

And after that, he admitted. 

For Clarke Griffin, he said hell to any promises he made to the dead. 

Because Clarke Griffin was _alive_. 

Now, she was out there somewhere, still living by that promise, still strong in her stance that they do better, _**be better**_. She was out there right now, falling back on all her knowledge of her time on Earth in order to rescue their people. 

Not even an hour after she had woken up and she was already at it. 

Now, he was back. Their friends were alive, but they would expect for those same promises to be upheld. He had no qualms with that – as long as nobody fucked with his people again. 

_That’s like asking for radiation to disappear._

Stirred on by that bitter thought, Bellamy yelled up the line to Jasper, “How far is it, Jasp?” 

A good-natured chuckle drifted back to him in the silent wood, the man – no, the boy - throwing back, “With patience, comes great rewards, oh fearsome leader. Everybody, welcome to what those in the business call the Arts Supply store – just don’t call it that in front of Clarke or Finn.” 

Some kids whispered and choked on their laughter at that, causing Murphy to snort from behind him. Bellamy just shook his head at them all, but one stray thought stayed with him as Jasper brushed off debris to reveal the bunker door beneath. 

_All the dead are alive._

#### CLARKE GRIFFIN || DAY 001 || 7:00 PM 

“What’s the last thing you remember?” 

The kids who had been walking alongside her through the ever-darkening forest stopped in their tracks as the blonde girl whirled on them. She took great care not to look them in the eye, still not used to walking amongst living ghosts, especially the ghost of the little girl who seemed content on avoiding her gaze too. Mel, the girl who seemed to have too much fight, too much fear to be anyone but someone who knew the horrors Earth had to offer, took the lead in speaking, hands clasped in the grip of the boy by her side. 

“The Pits,” she spoke up, eyes hardening as she elaborated, “The Fighting Pits of Blodreina.” 

Clarke winced at the name; at the bloody violence it was built upon. Guilt stung her chest at the way Mel’s hands trembled as she waited for her to respond to the realization. 

“How do you remember? You weren’t part of the Hundred?” Clarke wondered out loud, shoulders slumping when Mel continued to stare at her, clearly having expected her to know the answer. 

“Do you think that’s what’s happening here? That only those from camp remember?” Sterling questioned; brows furrowed as he glanced at Mel to his right. 

Clarke remembered Sterling. He had been part of Bellamy’s militia back when they first got to the ground. Because of that, she didn’t know him that well except for the fact that he could drink almost anyone under the table – besides Harper, of course. No one could beat Harper when it came to Monty’s moonshine. 

Sterling had been sitting at the table that night so many years ago, mouth curled in a crooked grin and brows lifted in approval as he watched the Sky Princess match them for every quarter they got in the cup. It seemed that he was one of the only people that had gotten the privilege of watching Clarke Griffin let loose, of seeing her laugh and smile and look her age. 

It seemed that death didn’t do anyone favors. Gone was the crooked grin and the light of playfulness in his eyes as he stared at her, waiting for the answers that no one had been able to provide until now. Gone was that moment on Unity Day when he was just a guy with a quarter, and she was just a girl trying to act like one for the first time in her life. Now, he looked at her like they all looked at her. 

But she didn’t shy away. 

If she wanted a community where they could depend on each other, she would have to do what she had always done. 

Be their leader and hope to hell she didn’t get anyone else killed….. _again_. 

Clarke sighed deeply before turning to level with them all, eyes determined and mouth stern as she said, “Look, I don’t have all the answers, only theories. As far as I can tell, we are experiencing a time paradox that so far, only those of the original Hundred have experienced….at least, until Mel here.” 

“What about Bellamy?” 

She froze. 

Charlotte had been silent since that moment Clarke had intervened and knocked out the guards, ordering the kids quickly to tie them up and drag them into the dropship. The little girl had done as she asked, blinking back in confusion before it dawned on her. This was not the girl who sang lullabies to get her to sleep, who wrapped her on her arms and warmed her up against the cool air that had once made her shiver. This was someone very different, she could tell from the way her eyes flickered at them all, at _her_ when the older girl thought she wasn’t looking, not in anger or blame but with deep sadness and regret that confused her. 

The last time Charlotte saw Clarke, she was standing tall against Murphy and his friends, standing tall for her despite the fact that she had killed her best friend, her brother and had snapped at her during their escape from camp. That same girl who told her, that screamed at her that she had **killed** someone, that she killed _her best friend_ wasn’t there as she turned to face her, flashes of emotion akin to regret catching in the torch light before they disappeared in faux gentleness that struck a nerve within the younger girl. 

“I haven’t seen him. I left Jasper with the others from my dropship to spread the word to anyone they come across to meet us at the bunker……the one not too far from the mountain?” 

Charlotte nodded with a reserved expression, “I remember. Where are you going though?” 

“To the Ark. If there are any of our people there, I’m getting them out.” 

“Why? I thought we needed them? The adults, I mean.” 

Clarke’s eyes softened a tad as they flew from the young girl to the others, all eagerly waiting her answer. 

“A lot has happened since……since you were here. Trust me when I say that it is better off for everyone involved if we go off on our own.” 

She made to turn from them but halted when Sterling questioned carefully. 

“Clarke…..how much time has passed since we died?” 

The blonde’s shoulders stiffened, hiking all the way to her ears as she tried to think of a way to tell them without sounding completely batshit crazy. Slowly, she peered over her shoulder and told them in a quiet voice as if to shield her answer from any unwanted listeners. 

“For me, it’s been over a century since the Hundred were killed,” Clarke whispered in deceptive softness, her lashes lowered as she stared at their worn Skybox facilitated boots instead of their shocked expression before she continued in a stronger, surer tone, “I don’t plan to be repeating that century anytime soon. So, I say, let’s get our friends, steal some stuff, and meet back with the others before someone or something starts deciding to pick us off. Are you with me or not?” 

She didn’t wait for an answer. 

She was afraid of it, in fact, as she turned and began walking off towards where she remembered the Ark landing that first time, torch raised high over her head to brighten her path despite the darkness creeping at the corners of her vision and the slight tremble in her lower lip. 

_I can’t blame them if they don’t follow me._

_Everyone who follows me dies, isn’t that what pnce Bellamy told me?_

_Who would willingly follow Death?_

Soft footsteps sped up beside her, but Clarke didn’t flinch as a small body appeared at her side, dirty blonde hair glinting in the light. She looked down and met Charlotte’s eyes, eyebrow raised in silent question. 

“I’m with you. All the way,” the little girl declared, nodding her head once before turning forward to glare at the darkness like she dared it to come haunt her. 

Clarke was surprised. This girl who jumped over the cliff tried to kill her demons and ended up letting them control her, feeding off her fear and regret until it pushed her over the edge, was the first to come after her? It seemed that death could change even the youngest of them that it touched. 

Clarke glanced down at the little hand swinging by her side and felt her heart tighten. The last time they were like this, Charlotte had tried to grab her hand. No more than a scared and confused little girl, she had sought out comfort or a feeling of safety in the midst of her being hunted and Clarke had spurned her. Her grief and her wrath, no matter how deserving, compelled her to ignore the fears of a _child_. 

Last time, she jumped over a cliff because of her guilt, because she wanted them to stop fighting. 

Charlotte had been one of the first ghosts to ever rise up to haunt her, one of the first deaths that she recounted every night when she closed her eyes. She had promised herself that she would never be so quick to turn away someone in desperate need. She had promised herself that if she ever saw someone like Charlotte again, whether it be in that life or the next, she would grab their hand and tell them it was going to be okay. 

She had made her decision while they had been walking alongside each other, quietly joined by the rest of the delinquents she had rescued back at that dropship. Clarke reached down tentatively, afraid she might the spook the girl into thinking she was attacking or that something was wrong if she moved too fast. 

Charlotte did jump when their fingers touched, her head whipping up to look at Clarke with such round, frightened eyes that she felt her stomach twist at the sight of them, at how they brought up that night in the forest when she looked up at her with those same eyes as she spat at her, reminded her, this **_kid_** , that she was a _**murderer**_ while Finn glared at her. 

Sending her a soft smile, Clarke entwined their fingers and led the girl along, tilting her head up to show she wasn’t scared, that the darkness couldn’t hurt them more than they had already been hurt. She didn’t see Charlotte’s doe brown eyes turn glassy as she tightened her grip on the older girl’s hand or the way she adjusted her body to mimic her strong stance. 

Clarke was too distracted with one precarious, fragile thought as they made their way through the wood, chockfull of things that wanted to kill them. 

_Who are the dead to follow if not Death herself?_

\- 

It was an hour later when Clarke ushered the kids into the shrubbery, ducking just as the spotlight grazed over where they had been standing. After it started to shine away from them, she peered over the bush to observe the settlement. Despite it being their first day on the ground, the Ark had hastened in their efforts to build up walls, setting up guard duty and even a minor security system – although, Clarke suspected the latter was less of a security system and more of a giant beacon to guide those that might be coming from distant dropships through the night. 

They had no clue that it was also a giant beacon to the Grounders, practically screaming ‘ _this is our location, come kill us._ ’ 

“Amateurs,” Sterling muttered from where he was crouched beside her. The boy tilted his head to the side, catching Clarke’s eyes and lifted his lips in a smile that the two of them seemed to only understand. 

Shaking her head in her own exasperation at the adults, she beckoned the rest of the kids closer and began whispering, “Alright, here’s the plan. Oliver, Charlotte, Glen and Steve – you guys are going to stay here to keep an eye on things. Sterling – you, me, Myles, Mel and Troy are going to go to the front gate – “ 

“ _What?!_ ” Oliver shouted before being shushed harshly by the group, lowering his voice as he continued, “I thought we were supposed to be getting our friends out of this place – not giving ourselves up!” 

"Correction, _we’re_ giving ourselves up – you’re sitting pretty in the forest full of Grounders,” Troy snarked, shoving his friend in the shoulder, “Besides, how else do you think we’re going to be able to get our friends out?” 

Oliver rubbed his neck guiltily, shrugging off his defeat. Clarke waited in case anyone else wanted to doubt her plans before continuing on, “As I was saying, we’re going to go in. You guys are going to be taken to where they’re probably holding the others, but because I’m – “ 

“The motherfucking Councilor’s daughter!” Steve whooped loudly, earning twice as many shushes. 

“ _Jesus Christ, Steve!_ If you don’t shut up, you’re going to get us all caught!” Mel hissed, tugging him down beside where Oliver looked a bit happier now that he wasn’t the one being chided before settling down next to Charlotte, muttering to the girl, “You’re in charge while we’re gone.” 

“Damn dude, we just got outranked by a kid!” 

Clarke was getting fed up with their bullshit. She did not get resurrected to lead a bunch of toddlers. She didn’t remember them all being this fucking stupid, yet they continue to make her doubt herself. Mothering these kids again was going to be so much harder than before because now she had to remind herself that hitting them over the head is technically child abuse, what with the age difference. 

Just as she was about to put them in their places, Sterling interrupted the comedic relief duo with a snarl. 

“We _just_ came back from the fucking dead and you want to get yourselves killed?! Are you _serious_ right now? If you’re going to waste your second chance by being fucking **morons** , then please, tell us now so that we can dump you in the woods because I for one am not letting you two **fuckwits** screw this up for me. Got that?” 

Steve and Oliver sat in stunned silence, mouths agape in shock that the normally chill guy had just snapped at them. It was Glen that broke their silence, getting to his feet and volunteering, “If they cause any more ruckus, I’ll hand them over to the Ark myself. Become a spy for you guys on the outside, make them useful.” 

Mel nodded her head as if she didn’t mind that idea. Clarke personally thought it had some merit but she knew that she wouldn’t be any kind of leader if she punished a bunch of kids for celebrating their rebirth. 

“Thanks Glen, but I don’t think that will be necessary. Keep watch and if we’re not back in an hour, head back to the mountain,” Clarke told him, unclipping her father’s watch from her wrist before placing it on Charlotte’s smaller one, taking a deep breathe before she told the little girl, “When the small hand gets to nine, start heading to the bunker. You know the one?” 

It took a moment for the girl to realize what she was referring to, her small head ducking so that her blonde braid fell forward as she whispered, “I remember.” 

“Good. Don’t lose that watch,” Clarke told her sternly, whispering more to herself than Charlotte, “It was my father’s.” 

She moved away before the little girl could say anything else, missing on the way her head whipped up, eyes wide in disbelief before she cupped the watch protectively. The older girl turned to the rest of them with a fierce look as she announced. 

“The time for ‘whatever the hell we want’ is over. Last time, it got us killed and we’re not doing that again. So, listen to me when I tell you that it’s imperative that we get our people, regroup and start our settlement. We’re not going to be able to do that if you go rogue and get yourselves, and everybody else, killed alongside you!” 

Oliver and Steve ducked their heads, cheeks red in embarrassment. Troy nodded once to show that he understood. Glen was silent as he peered around the tree, taking note of the guardsmen moving around the fence before he noticed something. 

“Clarke, you might want to see this.” 

The girl moved quickly at the excitement in his voice and stopped beside him, “What is it?” 

He pointed a finger at the top of the fence and explained, “See the lights?” 

“What about them?” 

“They’re not on.” 

“So?” 

“Don’t you think it’s strange that they have enough power to have this huge spotlight going around every five minutes but not enough to turn on the lights on top of the fence?” 

Clarke’s wide eyes met Glen’s, the boy wearing a crooked grin in amusement. 

“They haven’t got the electric fence up yet,” she breathed out, eyes brightening in excitement. 

“They haven’t got the electric fence up yet,” Glen confirmed, grinning wickedly. 

Suddenly, a bright beam shone on their eyes and they ducked instinctively, thinking it was the spotlight. That was when Clarke heard it. The familiar purr of an engine. 

Clarke sprung up from behind the bushes, eyes searching beyond the perimeters of the fence until she found it, pulling up beside the gate. 

It was impossible for it to be there, within the perimeters of the Ark. It was impossible to be there, on this day, in this point of time. Then again, the same could be said about herself. 

A bewildered grin curled up on her lips, one that turned mischievous as she craned her head over her shoulders to ask the kids behind her. 

“Which one of you wants to help me steal a Rover?” 

#### NATHAN MILLER || DAY 001 || 8:00 PM

After Jaha’s speech, both groups of kids had been taken back to their tent. Now that they had double the amount of people sharing the small space, it was crowded but they didn’t mind. They had arranged their cots in two straight lines that were shoved up on opposite sides of the tent, so that they could all sit beside each other. 

Miller never thought he would know the comfort of having his two best friends sit beside him ever again, but five minutes after being shoved into their little prison, he had Monty on his left and Harper on his right. 

He had forgotten how young they were, how young they all were. 

_If it weren’t for our eyes, you would think we were all the children we were reborn as._

A gentle hand rested against his arm and he turned to Harper, her soft smile greeting him. His eyes widened and he had to tell himself once more that she was right there. That she was alive. 

“Tell us about our son,” she whispered excitedly, shuffling closer, “What was he like when you guys came down? Did he enjoy it? What did he think of it all?” 

“What was the planet like, Miller?” Monty chimed in, brows furrowed slightly, “What was wrong with it?” 

“Oh, besides the body snatchers, the cults and the eclipse that drove you to kill each other every so often? Nothing much.” 

Harper’s head fell against his shoulder as she sighed, “Are you kidding me?” 

Monty shook his head sadly, “So, I guess hoping for any of that ‘do better’ stuff – “ 

Miller barked out a humorless laugh, slinging his arm around Monty’s shoulders to bring the boy closer, “Sorry man, but even if we wanted to – and we did, _believe me_ , it was all Bellamy and Clarke talked about the whole way to Sanctum – the odds were against us.” 

“Sanctum, huh?” 

“Sounds about right,” the blonde girl muttered bitterly, sagging against him, “Well, at least tell me you guys kept Jordan out of the fray?” 

He scoffed in response, “Harp, your kid couldn’t be kept out of anything for the life of him, and he had Clarke practically shadowing him everywhere. He fell in love with the first girl he met on the second day on the damn planet.” 

“Really?” she piped up, a small grin breaking out over her face as she questioned, “What was her name?” 

“Delilah. Unfortunately, she was given to what was known as the Primes. They were nightbloods, but in Sanctum, they were seen as Gods. It turns out that the people from Eligius learnt how to rework their mind drives to save their conscious, practically making them immortal. They had this thing where when a nightblood child would come of age, they would put their mind drives in their new host and essentially take over their body.” 

“What would happen to the host?” Monty asked quietly, already knowing the answer. 

Miller’s lips curled up in disgust as he spat, “Dead. Gone. Something in between. All I know is that Delilah went in and a Prime walked out wearing her body. What was worse is that they had the whole community believing it was an honor.” 

“What about our son, Miller? What happened to our son?” Harper demanded, her previous sweet smile gone, replaced by a hard edge to her voice. 

“The kid was heartbroken. He tried to find out what happened, tried to understand. He started talking to the locals, trying to find out how the Primes worked, especially when…..” 

He trailed off. How was he supposed to go about this? He still didn’t know how it all went down himself but he knew that the scars left by it almost wrecked them all. To this day, he didn’t think he had ever seen Bellamy so feral, so desperate in his life. Not even in the Valley, not even in the Pits, not even when they were trying to make it back to the Eligius ship in time. 

How was he supposed to tell his two best friends how fractured their leaders were when they were trying to keep their promises? 

How was he supposed to make them understand that some promises just couldn’t be kept? 

How was he supposed to make them understand that their promise was the reason - was the reason Clarke – 

“Miller? Miller?” Harper’s voice snapped him out of his conflicted thoughts, and he looked up to meet her brown eyes, wide in worry as she spoke softly to him, “Nate, especially when _what_? What happened in Sanctum?” 

Miller swallowed hard, his voice rough as he replied, “They found out that Clarke was a nightblood and they – they – “ 

Monty had already begun shaking his head, getting to his feet, “No, they couldn’t have – Bellamy would have – no, tell me they didn’t – “ 

He tried to explain, shaking his head, “We didn’t even realize. Bellamy was the one who – who figured out – that, that it wasn’t her.” 

He decided not to mention that it was Murphy who found out first but he didn’t particularly want to explain why that asshole didn’t tell them all. Monty and Harper had spent six years with the guy up on the Ring, they were practically _family_. If he told them that Murphy knew Clarke had been killed and had worked with the Primes to cover it up, it would break them. 

_That is the only reason I’m saving your ass, cockroach. For Monty and Harper._

“Oh god,” Harper let out a gasp, her hands flying to her mouth as tears started to fall down her cheeks. 

“ **GODDAMMIT!** ” Monty kicked the cot across from them, startling Trina from where she was trying to rest with Pascale. It spoke to volumes about the anguish Monty was in when he didn’t apologize or lower his head in shame, instead sinking to his knees, whispering, “It was supposed to be our future. I was supposed to get you all to safety, to get them to peace.” 

The blonde girl from beside Miller immediately knelt down on the ground beside the Asian boy, her arms wrapping around him to bring his head to settle on her chest as she cried alongside him, 

“Monty, Monty, babe, it wasn’t _your_ fault. They tried their best, it wasn’t your fault. Bellamy and Clarke, they would’ve known that you did your best. They would have treasured the chance that you gave them, they all would have – and they did, _didn’t they_ , Miller?” 

Harper gave him a look that had him nodding his head eagerly and while she turned away satisfied to keep consoling her husband, or her future husband - or her ex-husband? - Miller let out a breathe of relief. 

_Jordan would have never gotten away with anything if Harper was his mother. Poor kid._

Getting up from the cot, he joined his friends in kneeling down on the floor and put his hand on Monty’s shoulder, “Monty, Bellamy and Clarke wanted to build a future on the planet that you spent your whole life finding for us. They really did. All I heard the entire time we were there was ‘Do Better’ and they did. Even after they killed Clarke, Bellamy still stepped up and tried to make a deal so that the rest of our people could live - ” 

The crying couple jerked their heads up in unison at that, their red, puffy eyes narrowed in incredulity as they stared at him in shock. 

“ **WHAT?** ” 

“You _can’t_ be serious!” 

“That’s impossible!” 

“Guys – “ 

“No, that’s **bull** , Miller, and you know it,” Harper insisted, tugging Monty to his feet so that they stood tall over Miller, wiping frantically at their cheeks as she pointed an accusing finger at her friend, “We spent six years on the Ring with the man and we know better than almost anyone that when he thought Clarke died in Praimfaya, a bit of him died too. So, to say that he would put her death aside to make peace with the people responsible for murdering her is just – it’s just – “ 

“You have to admit, it sounds crazy,” Monty finished her sentence, rubbing at her shoulder as he told Miller, “This is the same Bellamy that infiltrated the Azgeda army to get to Clarke. The same Bellamy who poisoned his own sister so that Madi and Clarke would be safe. The same Bellamy that spent his first night on the ground after six years rescuing her from the Eligius prisoners armed with only a coffee mug. There is not a world where Bellamy Blake would make peace with the same people who killed Clarke.” 

His two friends towered over him with their arms crossed, wearing matching looks of doubt and he couldn’t help himself. Miller snorted, a low chuckle escaping him as he braced himself up using a cot to join them. Monty looked like he had been struck, his mouth dropping open in shock as Miller spent a moment laughing at them both before he trailed off. 

“I missed you two so much,” he told them with an easy smile, “I swear, I’ve had to deal with so many people that didn’t understand but you guys do. I’m sure if Octavia was in Sanctum instead of out doing gods know what with Diyoza, she would have said the exact same thing you guys did.” 

Shaking his head once more, Miller explained, “If you had let me finish, I would have gotten to the part where Clarke used Morse code to let Bellamy know she was alive. Apparently she only survived because she's had two AI’s in her head beforehand but if you ask me, it was because she’s too stubborn to die. Once Bellamy found out she was alive, all bets were off. Before I knew it, we’re all kidnapping a Prime and Bellamy’s running off with her to the woods. When they came back, Clarke is herself once more and we’re taking down the Primes.” 

He expected for the couple who personally created the motto “Do Better” to react to the news of them ruining another planet with a bit more disappointment and anger. Miller almost fainted when the two breathed out with sigh of relief, almost falling back onto their cot. 

“Don’t scare us like that again!” Harper swatted at him, catching his arm. 

Miller jerked the limb back, half in pain and half in surprise at the violent act. 

“Oh my god, I almost passed out,” Monty laughed breathlessly, running a hand through his long hair and jerking his hand back before realizing that it was supposed to be that length, “This is gonna take some getting used to.” 

“Really? I thought it was going to be a struggle getting over the whole ‘brought back to life’ thing but nope,” Miller muttered sarcastically, gesturing to his friend’s hair, “It’s your seventeen-year-old haircut that scares you.” 

“Shut up,” Monty rolled his eyes, the corners of his lips lifting up in a reluctant smile as he shoved Miller’s shoulder. 

They all sat there for a moment, laughing. Miller never thought that he would ever feel like this again. For the first time since he woke up in that dingy room in Alpha Station, he had hope. Hope that they could do it this time. That it wouldn’t just be a second chance to fuck everything up again for everything and everyone around them but to have a _genuine_ shot at **living**. 

It seemed Monty and Harper had that effect on everyone. 

A commotion at the front of the tent drew their attention and Wells jogged over to them from his spot the lookout. 

“Two kids just appeared at the gate.” 

“Two of ours?” 

“Seems like,” Wells shrugged, turning to look over his shoulder as the tent’s entrance was pulled open to reveal Miller’s dad walking through. The two kids were shoved inside behind him, both of them grunting as they stumbled forward before they caught themselves. 

Miller’s lips curled up as Sterling took them all in, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly as he waved with his other hand, “Hey guys, long time, no see, aye?” 

Miller scoffed at that. 

_Real subtle, guys._

“That’s an understatement.” 

Sterling and – was that _Glen Dickson?_ – grinned as they were led to one of the cots. Miller caught the mirth glinting in their eyes and leaned back. There was _no way_ that Sterling and _fucking Glen Dickson_ just wandered through the woods back to Arkadia **willingly**. The biggest rebel in the Skybox and one of the only people who survived the Ring of Fire? Nope, Miller wasn’t buying it. 

“Now, we will allow you kids to catch up but no funny business,” Sargent Miller told them, glancing over his shoulder at his son on the opposite side of the tent, “As the kids here will tell you, the Chancellor might have shown leniency for your crimes on the Ark but you will not escape the consequences if you commit such crimes down here again. Is that understood?” 

“Thanks for the tip, Sarge,” Sterling nodded, lips lifting up at the corner. 

“Leniency. Sure, sounds about right,” Glen rolled his eyes, laying back onto the cot with an arm over his face. 

Sargent Miller sighed deeply before making his way out, followed by his two lieutenants who sneered at the disrespect. As soon as they were out of the tent, both Glen and Sterling straightened up, losing their previous cocky demeanor as they bounded off the bed and over towards where Miller was sitting. 

“So, who feels like escaping?” Sterling rubbed his hands together in eagerness. 

“Who sent you in?” 

“Clarke. I knew the Princess could party, but a full-blown jail break? She’s more fun than I thought.” 

“That’s Clarke for you,” Miller muttered, rolling his shoulders as he leaned over to whisper to Wells, “Didn’t I tell you she’d come for us?” 

“Yep. The question is, where is she now?” the other boy replied briskly, directing his question to the two newcomers. 

“Arranging transportation,” Glen answered, popping the ‘p’ with bright eyes. 

Miller instantly knew what that meant and groaned. 

“Subtlety is not her strong suit.” 

“Have a little faith, man,” Sterling chuckled, clapping him on his shoulder, “She has a plan. For now, our only job is to get the rest of this rowdy bunch to the side gate.” 

The other kids whooped at that, before being silenced by a look from Miller. Glen shook his head at them all, laughing softly, “You guys are _so_ screwed. You should start a group with Steve and Ollie. They got a mouthful from Clarke about being too loud.” 

“Hey! Don’t lump us in with those two idiots,” Bobby winced from where he was getting up from the floor, “Besides, you have no room to talk. You were the first one to die!” 

“And yet, I retain enough sense to know when to shut up and learn from my mistakes,” the dark haired boy shot back, a slight edge appearing in his voice at the mention of how he died, “So, do you wanna get the hell out of here or get us all caught?” 

They all shut up at that. 

Glen nodded in satisfaction, “Good. Now, let’s blow this popsicle stand.” 

With that, he pulled out a twisted piece of metal from his pocket and started to the back of the tent. Getting to his knees, he gripped the thin piece of material between his fingers and stabbed a hole through it, the tear ripping through the silence that was created when they had all gathered around to watch. 

Miller grimaced at the loud noise and nudged Wells, gesturing for the boy to follow him as they walked back to the middle of the room. Harper, Monty, and Sterling followed, the latter with his arms crossed as he questioned roughly, “What’s up?” 

“Someone needs to guard the front to warn the others if anyone’s coming.” 

“Well, okay, only two of you need to do that.” 

“He’s got a – “ 

“If Miller’s staying, we’re staying,” Harper insisted before her friend could finish his sentence. Miller shook his head at her but couldn’t hide the smile that appeared on his face at the sound of her stubbornness. 

_Poor, poor Jordan. How you ever went through a rebel phase with Harper as a mother is beyond me._

“Okay, look. Monty and Harper, you guys can poke around the tent, scavenge whatever you think we can use and pack it up so that the others can take it with them while Wells and I keep watch at the front and tell you if anyone is approaching. Sound good?” 

“God, I swear, we just had that same speech from Clarke before we got ourselves thrown in here” Sterling laughed, turning on his heel to tell Glen the plan. 

Monty and Harper nodded once before separating to search the small tent, picking up blankets and canteens that they had been given, as well as extra clothes to share for those that needed it. Wells and Miller headed over to the front, the former peeking out to see if anyone had heard Glen tearing up the back of the tent. 

“So, you excited to see her again?” Miller asked after a moment of silence. 

Wells glanced at him sharply before turning back to what he was doing. 

“See who?” 

“Don’t play dumb, man. You know who I mean.” 

The boy sighed, looking anywhere but at him as he murmured quietly. 

“Yeah, I just – you know, it’s been a while.” 

“For her, sure. For you, it’s only been a few hours, maybe a day at most.” 

“I know that!” Wells snapped, sighing deeply as he shook his head, “You wouldn’t understand.” 

“Try me.” 

“Well, like you said, she’s been through so much. She’s so much older now, mentally and – what if – what if – “ 

“What if _what_?” Miller scrunched up his face in confusion, “What if she doesn’t remember you? What if you stopped being her friend? Don’t be an idiot. Clarke would never forget her friends, her _family_. You were a brother to her, man, and if there’s one thing I know about Clarke, it’s that family is the most important thing to her. You were part of that.” 

“I just don’t know what to say – “ 

“Then don’t say anything. As soon as you see her, hug her. Don’t do anything else but that. There are no right words, not when it comes to this.” 

Miller let that set in for the boy, taking over in watching the front as Wells processed the advice. It took a few moments before he had anything to say but when he did, Miller regretted trying to give advice. 

“You know, I remember you used be really quiet.” 

He sighed, jaw clenching at the word. 

_Quiet, little bodyguard. Never having anything to say but seeing everything they became._

“Yeah, I used to be. Until I found out that being quiet got a lot of people killed. Not doing that again.” 

Wells frowned from beside him, but Miller didn’t really feel like telling his whole life story at that moment, not when they had more pressing issues to attend to. Someone called out their names from behind him and Miller nodded at Wells to keep watch while he checked it out. 

Walking over to the back, he crouched down at eye level to check out the small hole Glen made in the tent, large enough that they could crawl through on their bellies and small enough that it could be easily concealed by the cot so that if anyone else was caught and taken into the tent, they could escape without giving up their exit. 

“Nice job,” Miller praised before getting up once more, turning to face the group. He gestured for them all to gather around so that he didn’t have to raise his voice, “Alright, Glen will go out first. Go out in groups of two behind him. Don’t say anything and try to keep the noise to a minimum, even if you do make it past the fence. Keep an eye out if anyone is straggling and if the rest of us get caught – keep moving and regroup with the others. We will be okay.” 

The others nodded and Miller backed up, waving the first two on. Glen and Bobby disappeared through first, followed by Trina and Pascale. They kept going like that until Sterling gestured for Monty and Harper, the former pulling the girl through after she stopped to protest and was quietly muttering her opinions about the plan before Sterling turned to Miller. 

“Alright, give them a minute and we’ll go next.” 

“Go where, boys?” a voice asked from the front of the tent. 

Miller let out a groan, turning on his heel with his hands raised in the air slowly, knowing the sight that would await him. Wells stood in between two guardsman, one holding his hand tightly over the boy’s mouth while he thrashed around in their grip. In the middle-stood Miller’s dad, arms crossed with a look of disappointment that wasn’t all that new to him. 

_Welcome back, Dad. It’s good to see you, Dad. Sorry to break it to you, Dad, but I’m gonna have to do a lot of things before I can make up for all the bad, Dad._

He almost rolled his eyes at the irony of it all. Here they were, kids once more but still criminals to everyone else. All that fear, all the pain, all the suffering that excused their crimes hadn’t occurred. Their good name had still been run through the dirt and no one trusted a thief – _even if they were your kid_. 

“Where’s the rest of them?” his dad asked in that no-nonsense tone he used to use with him. 

_It’s good to hear that tone again, Dad._

“Rest of…. _who_?” Sterling drawled, blinking back innocently, even as Miller glimpsed the boy shifting slightly to hide the tear that peaked over the cot they had dragged in front of the hole. 

_Thank god we did that first._

“Don’t play games with me, young man. It’s dangerous out there and whatever little break out you kids are planning will not end well for any of you.” 

“Trust me, Sarge, we know.” 

“You really don’t.” 

“We really do,” Sterling threw his head back laughing, even as Miller gave him a look to cut it out, “You have no clue what kind of place you guys came back to. But you will.” 

The slight terror in the boy’s eyes made Miller sigh deeply. He knew that the boy had survived the Grounder ambush in the woods, the attack on their camp all the way up until nightfall. He even managed to survive the Ring of Fire unscathed. No, what killed Sterling was his loyalty. Bellamy had told him he had gone over the cliff to rescue his friend from Factory station, Mel. The only survivor. 

He went over the cliff and he didn’t come back up. 

Despite it being an accident, his voice still held the same fear for the Grounders he survived. He didn’t want to live in that fear anymore, none of them did. It made Miller sick to hear them fear the people he had lived with for six years, the people he came to call his own. He never wanted to hear that fear again and it made him all that determined to get them all out of there. 

_As soon as we get to Clarke and Bellamy, we can make an alliance with the Grounders._

_As soon as we get to Clarke and Bellamy, we can start fixing our mistakes._

_As soon as we get to Clarke and Bellamy, we can start living rather than simply surviving._

But in order to get to Clarke and Bellamy, he needed to get them out of here. 

“Miller, son, tell me where they are before they get hurt,” his dad pleaded, eyes wide and earnest, “You guys are just kids. You won’t survive in the wilderness alone. Tell me where they are so we can bring them back and return them to their families.” 

_To be prisoners, to be criminals._

_To be spat on and hated and cursed._

_To be caged and locked up with rules and regulations that if broken would kill us._

_Half of us would be dead if we were still on the Ark._

“Dad,” Miller began, his trembling hands sliding into his pockets so as not to betray his anxiousness, “I know that you just want to keep us safe. I know that you just want what’s best for us but trust me when I say it’s not **here**.” 

_For my friends._

“If we stay, we’re prisoners. If we stay, we’re criminals. And the truth is, we never were. And we’re not coming back to this. We’re not coming back to live out our days with the fear that our own families will kill us if we mess up.” 

_For my people._

“Earth is a danger upon itself but it’s a danger that I survived. I don’t wanna survive anymore, Dad, I wanna live. I want you to live. But none of us will live if we don’t get out of here.” 

_For my freedom._

“The Ark died a long time ago, Dad.” 

_You died a long time ago. I do this so you can live past today._

“We are Grounders now.” 

He was halfway across the room when he finished his quiet declaration and the flap of the front entrance of the tent flew open as if on cue. 

It was the long, golden blonde hair he saw first. 

Then it was the gun. Aimed right at his father’s head. 

“Well said, Miller,” Clarke Griffin smiled, her eyes glassy with tears as they found his across the room. 

“ ** _Now!_** ” Sterling snapped. 

Wells headbutted the guardsman on his left, the crack of the man’s nose echoing throughout the tent. The man fell to his knees and was quickly knocked out with a punch from Sterling, who winced as he pulled back his fist. Clarke slammed the butt of the gun to the guardsman holding Wells’ on the right, his body falling into the dark-skinned boy’s arms as he looked at his best friend in awe. 

“Clarke?” 

“Wells, I – “ 

Miller watched as the boy dropped the unconscious guardsman to the ground in favor of rushing over to the blonde girl and pulling her into his arms, the friends releasing strangled cries as they buried their faces into the crooks of the others neck to muffle their sobs. From where he watched, he could hear Clarke muttering lowly, “I’m sorry, I’m so, so, sorry. I’m so, so, sorry – “ 

“I can’t believe you’re here,” Wells whispered back, “I’m not leaving you; I’m never leaving you again. I’m here, Clarke, okay? You’re my best friend and I’m never letting you go through it all again, I’m going to stay with you. I’m going to help – “ 

_I guess there are right words to say._

The thought vanished as he turned to his father, who had stood still with his hands held up in the air as he eyed the gun in Clarke’s hand. Miller stepped in between them; arms crossed over his chest as he called to the blonde girl over his shoulder. 

“What do we do with him?” 

His dad whipped his head up to look at him, eyes wide in betrayal. Miller ignored the way his heart clenched and waited for the two best friends to finish their emotional reunion so that they could figure out how to deal with the Sargent of the Arkadian guardsmen. 

He felt her presence warm his shoulder. 

“It’s your dad, Miller. It’s your call but I have a Rover waiting just outside.” 

He didn’t take his eyes of his dad, who’s own eyes widened at the discovery that Clarke Griffin could hijack a Rover, let alone _drive_ one. It made Miller feel a bit lighter despite himself and he glanced at the girl beside him before muttering, “We will need to get through the gate somehow.” 

Clarke nodded in agreement, already following his plan as she asked, “We can have him claim that we agreed to show him where the other kids are?” 

“That should do it,” Miller said, turning back to his father dad with a grim look, “Looks like you’ll be coming with us.” 

#### NATHAN MILLER || DAY 001 || 9: 00 PM

“Son, please – “ His dad pleaded softly as he patted him down, feeling him for any concealed knives, guns or tasers that he might use later on, all while Clarke leveled him with her gun. 

They all knew she wouldn’t shoot but knocking out a guardsman? Especially if it was to protect them all? 

It was easier than one would think. 

_A hell of a lot easier than shooting someone anyway._

Miller took away the radio strapped into his dad’s utility belt, passing it on to Clarke. Sterling had dragged the unconscious guardsman under the cots, stripping them of their own radioes and weapons before waiting with Wells at the front of the tent. 

“What do we do if he gives us up?” Wells asked the girl in front of him. 

Clarke didn’t say anything for a moment, considering the man in front of her with deep concentration before she gestured with her chin for Miller to take the gun, striding forward to stand before his dad. 

“Sargent Miller, we both know that the Council will not dismiss our crimes on the Ark,” she began slowly, looking the older man dead in the eye, “If the kids were to be brought back here, they would be cheap, prison labor at least and outcasts at best. I don’t think that is what you want for your son, or any of us for that matter. We are giving you a choice here. You can help us get out of here without turning us in and in exchange, you can come with us to our camp – “ 

Sterling started at that, “Wait _what_? Clarke, you’re not serious – “ 

The blonde girl was not having it, raising a hand to silence him as she continued on, “You can come with us to our camp, learn what we know, help protect us and the kids and stay with your son. The choice is yours but if not, we can just as easily ditch the Rover, knock you out and go off alone and you will never see us again.” 

They waited for a moment, all staring at him. Miller felt the tension eat at his shoulders, at his back that felt like it would break with how stiff it was. His face was like stone, but he admitted that when his father looked at him from over Clarke’s head, he begged him with his eyes to take her offer. He begged him because if he didn’t, he wouldn’t stay. 

It was like Clarke said. They would have no future under the rule of the Ark. Azgeda and Trikru would already be in an uproar due to the breach of territory and the amount of damage done to their land from the crash sights and the only thing that would stop an all out war was their people. 

_The Delinquents._

He would leave and his father seemed to realize that because his shoulders sagged and his dark eyes were torn as they stared at the cots where his comrades laid under and back at the kids before him, sighing heavily. 

“I will go with you. I still think you’re making a big mistake but,” Sargent Miller paused, nodding at his son, “I’m not going to leave my son. Nor will I leave you kids unprotected.” 

Clarke gave the man a genuine smile, “Good choice. Do you know what you have to say?” 

Sargent Miller nodded, mouth tight as he replied, “You kids will take me to where the rest of you have set up camp and in exchange, once we bring the rest of them back safe and sound, I will put in a good word with the Council on your behalf.” 

Sterling scoffed at that, “I like the touch of realism you added, Sarge, real smart.” 

Miller shot the other boy a look and muttered, “Shut up and let’s get out of here.” 

Wells held the tent flap open for the boys, whispering softly, “I haven’t seen anyone out front in the last five minutes so if we want to go, we go now when there’s less people.” 

Clarke nodded at that, gesturing with her head as she ordered, “Sterling, you go first and jump in the back. Wells, you go with him and keep a look out. If anyone comes up and asks, keep to the story that we made a deal.” 

“Gotcha boss,” Sterling saluted before walking out, Wells sending one last look to make sure his best friend had everything handled. When Clarke smiled at him in reassurance, he disappeared after. 

Miller was prepared to head out too but Clarke stopped, pulling his dad by his vest and warned in a low voice, “Sargent Miller, I might hold you in high regard but if I think at any moment you will give us away, we **will** bolt. I don’t care what the guardsmen do to stop us, tasers, rubber bullets or even live ammunition but if we get brought back here, we will never rest, never settle, never stop until we are free again. Do I make myself clear?” 

Miller watched silently as his dad leaned back to regard the girl before his mouth curled up slightly. 

“You remind me of your father.” 

Clarke inclined her head, “If my father were here, you would know he would agree with me.” 

Sargent Miller sighed before repeating, “I won’t give you kids up, not when there are other kids out in the woods alone and as far as I know, without a leader.” 

“How do you know they don’t have a leader?” 

“Because she’s right in front of me.” 

\- 

Nobody said a word as they approached the gate. Sargent Miller was sitting in the driver’s seat, hands gripping the wheel tightly. Miller sat beside him, not looking at his dad but at the guardsman who worked under him, approaching the vehicle with a look of puzzlement. 

The guardsman, a young guy with blonde hair and blue eyes that practically screamed cadet, leaned against the door by his dad’s side, eyes darting from the boy next to his commanding officer to the kids in the back before saying casually, “Didn’t know they had the Rovers up and ready yet, sir.” 

“This is the only one I’m afraid,” Sargent Miller chuckled good naturedly. 

“Bummer,” the cadet shrugged before inclining his head to the kids, “Where’re they being sent?” 

“Made a deal. They offered to take me to where their friends have set up camp. Apparently a few ran away when everyone was being transported to Alpha. I’m going off to find their camp before calling in reinforcements to help me take them back home.” 

The cadet raised a brow, “Does the Council know about this?” 

“I sent my men to let them know but the top priority right now is making sure these kids are safely returned to camp and reunited with their families. We cannot afford that kind of chaos at the moment so I thought that it would be better for me to get to these kids before it gets too late.” 

“Are you sure you don’t want any reinforcements, sir?” 

“Like I said, cadet, I would prefer to find the kids first before calling anyone. We don’t want a lot of our people out there this late at night.” 

“Well, then,” the cadet stammered, rubbing at his neck before looking around, “I was told not to let anyone out – “ 

“I am your commanding officer, cadet, and I am telling you now to let me pass through so that I might be able to get to these kids,” Sargent Miller demanded impatiently, softening a bit when he saw the young man go tense, “Look, they are alone. In the woods. They are probably scared and confused. They don’t have any resources and it’s getting cold out. Please, just do as I say so that I might get to them in time. I have blankets and supplies in the back for them and they need them as soon as possible.” 

The cadet nodded hastily, rushing up to open the gate before waving them through. 

“Nice job, Sarge,” Sterling murmured from the back where he sat between Wells and Clarke. 

“Not like I had a choice,” the old man muttered with a sigh, glancing to his right just in time to see his son’s lips curl up at one end. 

After a few moments of the kids in the back staring stoically at the lights of the Ark, Clarke finally turned around to the Miller’s at the front, getting up and crouching down between the front seats to point at a spot a bit of a distance away. 

“Drive over there and turn off the headlights. We have to pick up the others.” 

Miller turned his head to look at her, “How many are we expecting from yours?” 

“Not including Sterling and Glen? Four.” 

“Barely enough room with the fourteen from mine, it will be a tight fit.” 

“The camp isn’t that far by Rover.” 

“What took you so long?” 

“Acid fog. The horn was called when I was halfway down the mountain – “ 

Sargent Miller turned his head sharply to stare at the girl in confusion, “The horn – you heard it?” 

“I was actually a few yards from you and your men,” Clarke admitted in a matter of fact voice, “Which brings me to the question of how you got to Alpha safely?” 

The man returned his eyes to the front, weaving through trees with his shoulders slumped. 

“We didn’t. I lost seven good men to that fog which brings me to the question on how the hell you kids knew to hide from it. You’ve been on the ground a day and you’re already running around the woods like you own the place.” 

Clarke sniffed at that. 

“We don’t own the place. Far from it,” she explained softly, exchanging a look with Miller before offering, “I’m sorry to hear about your men. I had hoped you would reach a dropship or a cave in time before it reached you.” 

“That doesn’t explain how you knew about it at all, Clarke.” 

“Trust me when I say that we know a lot more than you’d think. We’re willing to explain once we reach the camp but right now…….” she trailed off, eyes narrowing on the movement up ahead as a group of kids came out from the trees, “That’s them. Pull up.” 

As the headlights on the Rover shone on the group of kids, Miller heard Clarke gasp at who was leading them. 

“I forgot to mention on our way out,” he drawled in amusement, a smirk forming on his face “There’s two people who really want to see you.” 

Turning to look at him, he caught the shine of tears in her eyes and started tearing up himself. Not that he would admit it. If anyone asked, he had something in his eye and the extra bright headlights weren’t helping. 

Clarke nodded at him, a small, disbelieving smile appearing on her face as she turned around to open the backdoor of the vehicle. Miller leaned against his seat to watch as the blonde girl jumped out of the Rover, before walking around to the front, stilling when the group was only a few feet in front of her. 

He watched as Harper moved first, bounding up to the girl who looked to be in shock and wrapped her arms around her. Monty came up behind them and wrapped them both in embrace, half sobbing into Clarke’s shoulder. 

And Clarke? 

She had collapsed into them and her hybrid of cries and laughter reached Miller, drifting in through the open window. It had been a long time since he had seen Clarke let herself truly rejoice. The only times he had seen such raw emotion from her was when she had returned from the Eligius ship with their people, collapsing into Bellamy’s arms as she begged him to tell her that it was worth it, that her killing her mother was worth it. 

It was a beautiful thing to see his friend let go of her strength to break in the arms of the friends they had once lost but he knew that the woods would only get more dangerous as the night went on and the sooner they got their people into the Rover, the sooner they could get to the camp and to somewhere safe. 

Miller gave them a few more moments before leaning out of the window and calling out, “As much as I would hate to break up the reunion, we have to get to the others soon.” 

He waited patiently as the trio parted from each other, Harper settling with linking her arm through Clarke’s and Monty choosing to settle his hand on her back as they led the group to the back of the Rover. Miller turned to watch Wells and Sterling help them in and stilled when he noticed the young girl in the group. 

The last time he had seen Charlotte was when she had screamed at Bellamy that it was her that killed Wells. Clarke and Finn had run off with her after that, Bellamy, Octavia and himself trying to stall Murphy and his boys long enough to give them a decent head start. He wasn’t there when the little girl threw herself into the ravine, but Bellamy had told him that all she wanted was for them to stop fighting. That she was just a scared, little girl. 

That scared, little girl was now at the back of the Rover, looking up at Wells who had stilled after helping Trina in to look at Charlotte. Clarke stiffened next to him, looking like she was about to put herself between them when the boy extended out his hand to the little girl, a soft look on his face as she stared at it in a mix of fear and disbelief before slowly taking it. 

Miller knew that it wasn’t just a hand to help her in. 

Wells was extending an olive branch, a way for the girl to know that he wasn’t mad at her. 

He remembered the way Wells had muttered darkly about the possibility of Bellamy using a small,child to get him out of the way, back when he first woke up and was still on the brink of believing he was dying. Wells immediately forgave the child for any part she played in his death, even after Miller explained what happened. 

Charlotte moved past Wells to sit herself down beside a girl he knew to be called Mel – _which confused the hell out of him but he figured now wasn’t the time_ – as Clarke closed the door after Bobby and called back to him that everyone was in. Miller turned to give his dad the nod before his old man started the vehicle once more. 

As the Rover started moving, Miller made himself comfortable leaning to the side to look at the others in the back with a raised brow when they all turned to look at him with grins. Sterling had his arm wrapped around Mel’s shoulder’s protectively, Charlotte cuddled close next to the older girl as she stared at Wells in a daze. 

Wells nodded at her with soft eyes before turning to gaze at Clarke to his left before looking down at her hand in his, clutching it tightly. The blonde’s other hand was in Harper’s as the girl leaned her head on her shoulder. Monty patted his wife’s – girlfriend’s? – thigh with a happy sigh before turning back to share a smile with Miller. 

Trina sat back against her seat on Sterling’s left, her eyes closed and her breathing turning the kind of slow one would when they were trying to calm themselves. Pascale sat between his girlfriend’s legs, leaning against her knee as her fingers soothed his hair. Troy, Steve and Ollie were at their quietest, wedged on the floor whispering to Bobby about their dropship while Glen crouched down by the back door, choosing to stare out into the forest behind them. Miller knew what he was looking for. He assumed the boy had been told the stories of the Grounders, the vicious version of the people that Steve and Ollie came to know. 

It would take a lot to turn those old fears around but once they found out there was more to fear than just the Grounders, they would turn their opinions. 

He his eyes scanned over the rest of them, cuddled close on the floor space between the seats, before he settled his attention back on his friends and met Clarke’s eyes from over Harper’s head. They shared a knowing look, one built on the mutual relief they felt that this was **real** , that they were back, that they were with their friends once more. 

Their silent exchange also held a darker truth. That this was real, they were back and that this was just the calm before the storm. 

#### BELLAMY BLAKE || DAY 001 || 9: 30 PM

“Do you think they’re out there?” Jasper whispered, his knee bouncing up and down as his eyes darted around the forest surrounding them. 

“The Grounders?” Bellamy frowned at him before shrugging, snapping a stick before throwing it into the fire that they had started, “I don’t know. Probably.” 

“Nah, they’re out there,” Murphy nodded from where he sat propped up against a tree off to the side, Mbege beside him, “They probably have scouts watching us.” 

“Should we say something?” Jasper asked with a strange twinkle in his eyes. 

Bellamy studied him for a moment before identifying that look. It was mischief. 

He shut that shit down real quick. 

“Don’t say anything. At least, don’t say anything rude. We’re not here to start another war.” 

Jasper clasped a hand over his heart in mock offense, “ _Rude_? _Me_? I would never! Bitter and sarcastic on the other hand – oh, yeah, without question.” 

Bellamy heard Murphy snort from behind him and shook his head. They had made camp two hours ago, half of them going into the bunker so that they would be less exposed and the other half choosing to sit outside to wait for the rest of their people. 

_If they’re ever going to show up._

No, he had faith that Clarke would get them out and back in one piece. But it was getting late and they couldn’t see anything in the darkness around them, the only light they had being the firepit in the middle and the torches they had set up as a makeshift perimeter. A very small perimeter as the nearest torch was only a few feet from where Mbege had his feet propped up on a log. 

“Do you know any Trig?” Murphy murmured slowly, straightening up his back before getting to his feet, looking at the trees with interest, “Maybe if we can tell them that we come in peace and all that shazazz we’ll be less likely to be skewered.” 

Jasper shivered at that and raised his hand, “I, for one, am in complete agreement that we should do everything in our power not to get skewered. I so do not want to do that again.” 

Bellamy’s face was stone as he muttered, “They know English.” 

Murphy rolled his eyes, raising his hands in surrender, “I was trying to be respectful. Float me.” 

Bellamy lulled his head to the side with a deadpan look, “What would you want me to say, _John_?” 

His friend stopped in his stretching to shoot him a look at the use of his first name before shrugging, “Don’t spear us maybe?” 

“Would that even work?” Monroe asked from where she sat close to the fire, the gun she commandeered close to her side. She had been silent as they all went back in forth, and Bellamy had noticed the content smile that appeared at the familiar and yet so foreign bickering between Murphy and Bellamy. 

Bellamy shook his head, glancing up at the trees once more, “I don’t know.” 

Monroe sat up with a grunt, placing her gun on her lap as she shrugged, “I’d say it’s worth a try.” 

That was strange coming from her. The last time she had any interaction with Grounders, they had released a series of chemicals into the air that killed her. To vouch for communications with her murderers was a bold and courageous move, but as Bellamy studied her further, he noticed her hand holding the gun shaking, her eyes narrowed at the tree overlooking her with fear and distrust and her breaths uneven and haggard. 

“I don’t think they would appreciate any talks of peace while we handle guns,” Murphy pointed out from behind him. When Bellamy turned to shoot him a look, he found the boy’s eyes trained on Monroe’s weapon as he continued, “Guns are forbidden from Grounders. In their lore, if they touch one, the Mountain Men are brought down upon them.” 

Bellamy rubbed at his jaw at remembering what that meant for them. 

“We’ve already broken one of their most sacred laws. They probably already see us as an enemy and a danger to their clans.” 

“Well, what do we do?” Jasper asked as he got into a crouch, “The whole point is to make peace with them.” 

“I know,” Bellamy nodded, his voice low as he tried to think of a way to communicate with any of the scouts nearby that they weren’t a threat while still protecting themselves and the people inside of the bunker. 

He looked around at who was out on guard duty with him, Jasper and Murphy. Including Mbege and Monroe, there were eight others sitting outside in order to give the rest of them space to properly rest up. They had planned to do rotations every five hours, but it would help the ones on the surface to rest easier if they had the reassurance that they were safe. 

Such a thing was thought to be impossible, especially on the Earth of now but impossible things seem to be their specialty. 

Bellamy rolled his shoulders and got to his feet, passing his gun of to Jasper who swallowed hard at it. 

“You going to be alright with that?” he asked the boy after seeing the familiar gleam of haunting in his eyes. 

Jasper nodded his head roughly before asking, “What’s the plan?” 

“Get to the bunker door and get everyone down. If whoever’s scouting takes offense, we don’t want to be exposed.” 

“Just you, huh?” Murphy spoke up, coming to stand beside them both as he cocked his head, “We _literally_ just came back from the dead – or wherever the hell we came from – just this morning and you already want to play martyr?” 

Bellamy rolled his eyes, “You can keep the door open and drag my martyrdom ass down the bunker for all I care but everyone else will be down there while I do this.” 

“Works for me,” Murphy shrugged before putting a hand on Jasper’s shoulder to lead him to the door, all the while muttering, “I’ve been dragging your ass all of a hundred years now but who’s counting?” 

“That is still weird to hear,” was Jasper’s quiet murmur that brought a smile to Bellamy’s lips despite the fact he might very well be killed trying to do what he was about to do. 

Waiting until all of them had crawled down the bunker, with Murphy sitting with his legs dangling down and his hand steadily gripping the door open, Bellamy turned to the silent forest around them and thought hard and long about what he was to say to them. 

He had learnt many things on the Ring in the six years they were stranded in space - because what could you do other than find ways to entertain yourself? 

At first, it was hard. It was worse than hard. It was like surviving had dwindled down to a lesser purpose. He was merely existing. He had no fight in his bones during the first year. He barely slept, barely ate, barely talked to anyone but himself and a ghost of a girl he left behind to burn. He didn’t talk to the others, and didn’t listen when they talked because it all sounded too hopeful, too thankful, too happy. 

That was until Echo. 

She became a pain in the ass he didn’t want but didn’t know he needed. It started just by her barging into his room at ungodly hours of the day – or night, it was difficult to tell in space – to ‘train with her’. From hand to hand combat, to weapons of everything they managed to make from what they could afford to wreck on the Ring, they fought for hours on end. 

She would refuse to speak English for a month or two at a time just to get him to learn what she was saying. When he failed in his attempts to translate, she would correct him in English. She taught him the language of the Grounders, the lore he never bothered to understand or respect. She taught him of the clans origins, of their people, of their culture and their ways. 

When his mind drifted to the Earth, she would bring her sword down and tell him to focus on keeping them alive in space because they would be no good to anyone worth saving down on the planet below if they died. 

It was on the nights when he let her close, after he kissed her that first time by the window he hated looking out of, that she whispered to him a word she never taught him. 

_“Raiza.”_

__

_“Um, did you just say Raven’s last name while we’re – “_

__

_“No! Raiza – it means rebel.”_

__

_“Oh. Why did you say it?"_

__

_"That's what they used to call you. Back in Polis, they said that you joined a faction of Skaikru who rebelled against the Commander. As enemies of the Commander, we looked upon your people favorably at your boldness."_

__

Rebel. Before it was marred with the knowledge it was a nickname he and the people who followed Pike earned for massacring three hundred warriors, it was usually surrounded by laughter, featured in the playful jokes thrown around in the earliest days of the dropship. 

__

_The Rebel King_ , Octavia used to smirk when he visited her in the meat shack, back before the Grounders set all the food, and the hut, on fire. It made sense, in a way. They all were rebels who fell from the sky for not fitting into a society that didn’t really want them anyway. And he was somewhat the leader of them all. 

__

“Oh my god, with the rate you’re going, we’re gonna be sitting here all night – “ Murphy complained, his voice dripping in boredom as he rolled his eyes at the young man who had been staring at the trees for five minutes like an idiot. 

__

“Shut up, Murphy,” Bellamy shot back before turning his attention back to the woods and took a deep breathe. 

__

_Here goes nothing._

__

“ _Ai laik Belomi kom Skairaizkru. Ai hola au biyo seiso klir gouthru auda Trikru zoun. Osir kom op in ogonzoun_.” (I am Bellamy from the Sky Rebel People. I speak to claim safe passage through the Tree People’s territory. We come in peace.) 

__

A chilling silence descended over the forest he previously thought couldn’t get any more silent. It was like nature had stopped to hear his declaration, but he knew better. The scouts were out there. They had listened and they were quite possibly deliberating on his fate. 

__

“Well, that went –“ Murphy began after a few minutes before a creak rang out, the sound of weight shifting on the branch of a tree before the familiar whizzing of an area approached at high speed. Bellamy felt the arrowhead skim past his cheek, slicing the skin a little before meeting the ground behind him. He had shifted to the side to miss it sinking into his eye and as he turned to meet Murphy’s stunned look, hot blood running down from the new wound, he shouted. 

__

“ **GET INSIDE!** ” 

__

At his order, two boots thudded on the forest floor behind him and he knew he was done for. 

__

__

#### CLARKE GRIFFIN || DAY 001 || 9: 35 PM

__

“I can’t believe this is real,” Harper whispered to the blonde girl she was leaning on, her husband’s shoulder warming her back behind her, “I can’t believe we’re here with you again.” 

__

“Neither can I,” Clarke murmured back with a teary smile, meeting Monty’s eyes over Harper’s head, “We missed you. Everyday.” 

__

“We missed you too,” Monty grinned softly, clapping her shoulder with his hands before he asked, “And Jordan?” 

__

“Just like his mom and dad,” Clarke laughed, rubbing at her eyes with the sleeve of her jacket, “We took care of him, for the most part. When me and Bellamy weren’t around, Jackson and Miller had his back.” 

__

A look of grief descended over the Asian boy’s face as he shook his head, “Miller told us what happened on that planet. I’m sorry – “ 

__

“ _Please_ ,” she interrupted before he could go on to apologize, “It wasn’t your fault, Monty. If it weren’t for you, our people would have slept in cryo forever. And if it weren’t for your son, we would have died in space. You taught him well.” 

__

Harper chuckled like the proud mother she was and straightened up, “We told him stories about you. And the others. He grew up on tales of you so in a way, you taught him just as much as we did.” 

__

“I’m not sure about that,” Clarke cocked a smile, raising a brow, “I’m sure Miller also told you guys that he fell in love on his second day on the planet. Head over heels.” 

__

“I know,” Harper clapped a hand over her mouth to contain her giggles before waggling her brows, “Reminds you of a certain someone, don’t you think?” 

__

“What’re you talking about?” 

__

Monty huffed from beside his wife, “Come on, Clarke, you can’t seriously tell me that I literally found you a planet to make peace and live your life on and you and Bellamy – “ 

__

_Wait, wait, wait. Hold up._

__

“ **WHAT?!** ” she exclaimed, drawing everyone’s attention to her. 

__

Thank god most of the kids were asleep, so it was only Trina, Pascale, Glen and Sterling. Wells shifted against where his head lulled on her shoulder, muttering in his sleep. 

__

_I don’t like the direction this conversation’s going and Wells waking up in the middle of it will only make it worse._

__

She lowered her voice a tad and leaned in to whisper to the couple. 

__

“That’s **_crazy_**! Me and _Bellamy_? Come on! He’s with – “ 

__

Harper put her hand on Clarke’s arm, shutting down her protests, “Look, I love Echo. She became like a sister to me on the Ring but I also love you. You were the reason, you were _always_ the reason, we stayed alive for as long as we did, you and Bellamy. That is why we chose to wake you two first, why we chose you two to protect Jordan.” 

__

“That, and we hoped that the domesticity would cause some sexual tension,” Monty added, earning a playful swat from Harper and a warning look from the blonde beside her. 

__

His wife turned around to face Clarke once more with a shrug, “Not subtle at all, but he’s right. Miller told us that once Bellamy found out you were alive, he literally kidnapped you and helped bring you back.” 

__

Clarke shot a look at Miller in the front seat, the boy determinedly not looking in her direction and instead outside of the window like it held the secrets to life itself and she grunted. 

__

“Miller makes it seem way more dramatic than it actually was,” Clarke insisted with another pointed look at said boy before turning back to the couple, her eyes softening, “Besides, even if you had any foundation for what you’re saying – he was with Echo. He loved her.” 

__

“He _was_ with Echo.” 

__

_I don’t like how she said that._

__

“He still – “ 

__

“No, no, no,” Harper shook her head in glee, a giddy grin appearing on her sweet face as she turned to Monty, “She said he _was_ with Echo, meaning she knows very well he isn’t now and that even if he did still have feelings for her, she wouldn’t be the same -“ 

__

“Shut up.” 

__

“No, Clarke, Harper has a point – “ 

__

“No, _shut up_ ,” Clarke repeated, a bit more roughly as she sprang up from her seat to lean between the front and driver’s seats, her eyes staring into the darkness outside. Miller had straightened up in his seat and was leaning out of the window and squinted before getting back in. 

__

“Is it – “ 

__

“I think so. Just behind those trees.” 

__

Clarke felt somebody kneel beside her and heard Monty ask, “What’s going on?” 

__

“Torches, just over there,” Miller explained shortly before turning to nod at his dad, “Go.” 

__

The old man did so without question, hearing the edge in his son’s voice. As they neared to where they could physically see the torches, and what they surrounded, they understood why. They had set up a perimeter around a campfire in the middle. Just a bit away from it was the bunker door, held open by Murphy who was half-in and half-out as he yelled at the man fighting two Grounders just a few feet in front of him. 

__

The man they were fighting was Bellamy Blake. 

__

Clarke felt her back go rigid at the sight of him, flames dancing across his face that was already heavily bruised and covered in dirt and blood. A new, thin cut shone red on his cheek and Clarke’s eyes caught on the arrow he held in his hand, the one he used as a weapon to fend the two Grounders off. 

__

Grounders with _swords_. 

__

“Jesus, already?” Miller muttered, his hand on the gun at his belt, “Clarke?” 

__

“Miller, on me. The rest of you stay in the car.” 

__

Sargent Miller turned his head to protest, “ _Clarke_ – “ 

__

She cut him off, “If anything happens to us, drive up the mountain and to the Dropship. The kids will know the way.” 

__

Without waiting for a reply, she kicked open the back door of the Rover and circled around the front to come up beside Miller, who edged first into the perimeter with his gun raised. She pushed in front of him and pointed her gun. 

__

Not at the men fighting. Up at the sky. 

__

**BANG! BANG! BANG!**

__

The Grounders broke apart instantly, spinning to face her with their swords raised. Clarke felt her heart beat hard in her chest at the sight of them, at the sight of who she remembered calling people. It didn’t matter if she didn’t know them by name, they had long since became part of the people she had sworn to protect. Not even time or death would change that for her. 

__

“ _Hod op!_ ” (Stop!) 

__

Her command rang out loudly through the forest, echoing and reaching into the depths before trailing off. She stood there, chest heaving as she studied the men in front of her before looking past them to the man keeling over by the waist in exhaustion. His arms were crossed over the stomach but as far as she could tell, it was from punches and not from being cut open by the steel blades glinting in the firelight back at her. 

__

_He’s alive. He’s alive. He’s alive._

__

But now that he was spared from their violent assault, they seemed to be sizing up her and Miller. She couldn’t afford to fight them, to fight them and live, to fight them to the death. 

__

_These are my people. This our peace. May it begin now and last._

__

“ _Ai laik Wanheda en disha laik ma kru. Jomp em op en yu jomp ai op_ ,” (I am Wanheda and these are my people. Attack them and you attack me!) 

__

Clarke snarled, forcing herself to make her words true. She forced herself to remember every death that earned her that name, to make the memory of them freeze her to her core. She forced herself to relive them all and to become them, screaming rage and agony inside her eyes as she turned them to the Grounders. 

__

She saw them shift and bared her teeth at their weakness. 

__

“ _Gon we in ogonzaun o teikon Wamplei emas!_ ” (Go in peace or take on Death herself!) 

__

She paused for a moment and it was the longest moment she had felt since arriving on Earth for the second time in her life. She stared them down and didn’t flinch as they raised their sword, nor as they growled in answer. She didn’t turn away as their eyes burned at her in fear and hate and spite, nor did she jump back as they rose their blades over their heads before sinking their blades into the ground, kneeling alongside them. She didn’t fathom their knees hitting the forest floor hard. 

__

No, she was too cold to their pain, too cold to their show of surrender, of loyalty. 

__

She kneeled down alongside them and let the command leave her lips. 

__

“ _ **Gon we**_.” (Leave). 

__

They rose in one fluid movement that reminded all around them that they were indeed warriors. They inclined their heads in unison before walking off into the darkness, the torches hissing as they passed without turning back even once. 

__

Clarke dared to let out a breath of relief before turning to the man still panting from the fight, now being helped up by Murphy who had moved from holding open the bunker door in favor of slinging Bellamy’s arm around his neck and slinging his own arm to around the man’s waist. 

__

Bellamy lifted up his head to meet her eyes and she felt her heart stop. 

__

He looked so young, like before Praimfaya. She had missed his face so much and while his beard and age had not dissipated his handsomeness, it had hid the youth and the raw passion on his face. This was the Bellamy she knew better than anyone, the Bellamy she knew would have her back no matter what, this was Bellamy she called family. 

__

He was her partner, her best friend, her heart and seeing his face again as it once was……it was _indescribable_. 

__

His upper lip, the one with the white scar, curled up into a smirk as he greeted her. 

__

“Nice timing, Princess, what took you so long?”

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, please leave your thoughts in the comments, I would really love to hear what you guys thought.  
> Some questions:  
> \- Which reunion was your favorite?  
> \- What part did you like best?  
> \- Which P.O.V did you like best and which P.O.V would you like to read more from?  
> \- What did you think about the use of Trig?  
> \- What did you think of the Becho flashback? I tried to keep it to a minumum because I'm unsure on how many people like the ship.  
> \- Would you like to see more Becho flashbacks or Spacekru flashbacks?  
> \- What did you think of Clarke and Bellamy's mini reunion?  
> \- What did you find most interesting?  
> \- What would you like to see most next chapter?  
> \- What do you think I could improve and what do you want to see more of?


	8. || Old Souls, New Faces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Previously.....**   
>  _Bellamy lifted up his head to meet her eyes and she felt her heart stop._
> 
> _He looked so young, like before Praimfaya. She had missed his face so much and while his beard and age had not dissipated his handsomeness, it had hid the youth and the raw passion on his face. This was the Bellamy she knew better than anyone, the Bellamy she knew would have her back no matter what, this was Bellamy she called family._
> 
> _He was her partner, her best friend, her heart and seeing his face again as it once was……it was indescribable._
> 
> _His upper lip, the one with the white scar, curled up into a smirk as he greeted her._
> 
> _“Nice timing, Princess, what took you so long?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thank you for answering my questions from last chapter! I noticed a lot of you were worried that I would be abandoning this fic and I just want to reassure you once again that I am sticking to it for as long as I have readers who are willing to stick by it too! I know that a lot of you have probably seen the recent episodes and after the mess the writers made, I will admit to turning to the beautiful fanfic writers for support in these times. It was hard to see my ship, and the show as a whole, get butchered so mercilessly like that and for the actors and actresses who have put in some much time and effort into creating this world to be disrespected like this. Again, BIG FUCK YOU TO JASON YOU BASTARD. I wanted to give a shout out to Kass Morgan who has offered sanctuary in the books where our favs remain alive, untarnished and happily married, she is a sweetheart and JROTH disrespected her too, even though I agree that one creative medium - if we can even call Jason that - can't ruin the work of another creative medium.  
> Anyway, this has a second part to it but for now, this is my consolation gift to you guys. I know it's not much but you all deserve support right now. Also to anyone from the Clexa fandom who might come across this, you guys are the strongest people I know for dealing with this shit since season 3 and you saw it coming for a long time now. Let us all stand together in a mutual mourning of our characters and the ships that hold out hearts, our mutual hatred of JROTH for his homophobic, racist spiteful bitchass butchering of the show and our mutual strength that we will overcome and transpire the hurt we feel right now.  
> I love you all and my comment section is open to any and all who wanna talk either here or on my tumblr. You can find my user on my profile x  
> Hope you enjoy this chapter!

Time stood still. That name, she hadn’t heard it on his lips in what felt like forever. She hadn’t realized how much she missed it when he called her that. It had started with a sneer, a mocking of the title everyone assigned to her as soon as they met her and identified her as Clarke Griffin, the daughter of Councilwoman Abby Griffin and a resident of the _privileged_ who hailed from Alpha station. It was a nickname he had actually stolen from another, but it never made her feel the same way it did when he said it. 

Over time, it became almost friendly, and it always used to annoy her. The light way the word would roll off his tongue, a rich contrast to the low, rough tone he usually took with her, only rivaled by how he sounded when he said her name. Then it became _something else_. 

It stopped sounding so casual and it sounded like a title. Not the one he scoffed at during their first meeting but one tinged in something akin to reverence. It was raw, it was passion and it left her with an ache she hadn’t felt since those long years after Praimfaya. 

It was the first time he had called her that in over a century and she felt her heart burn at the crooked smile that followed. 

“Bellamy,” she breathed out, passing the gun to Miller who grabbed it with a roll of his eyes and an easy smile as she ran forward. 

The man who was currently being held up by Murphy straightened at the girl’s lunge and already had his arms opened wide, ready to catch her. She fell into them, wrapping her arms around him. The warmth of their bodies, of their presence burned through their worn jackets, through the thin shirts that had done nothing to keep out the chill of the night that was now in the furthest parts of their mind as they embraced. 

“Bellamy,” she choked out as relief threatened to consume her, her chin raising to set itself in the crook of his neck. 

Bellamy buried his nose in her hair, tugging at the long, blonde braid sitting between her shoulder blades as he murmured back, “Your hairs grown since I last saw you.” 

Clarke let out a breathy laugh before pulling back, her eyes glittering with tears of relief as she lifted a hand up to his face before stopping just before it made contact with the smooth, bare skin of his jaw as she scoffed in disbelief, “Your beards gone.” 

He chuckled at that, a low and throaty sound that felt lighter than anything he had ever said or did towards her in years and she felt her heart stutter. Then stop completely as his eyes rolled into the back of his head, body going heavy in her arms before falling back into Murphy’s, who was waiting behind them both patiently. 

_No, no, no, no, no._

She followed him, her body moving without her needing to think too much of it as she crouched on the ground where Murphy lowered his body, using his chest to prop up the half-conscious man as the blonde girl turned to him. 

Murphy thought that seeing Clarke all frazzled and panicked would be funny but he could see why it wouldn’t be appropriate to laugh when one of his best friends was literally limp in his arms and another one was looking at him like her brain was ten seconds from being fried. 

“What happened to him?” she snapped, placing her hands on either side of Bellamy’s face as she turned it lightly to inspect him for wounds, fingers hovering over the cuts on his cheek and the dark, purple bruises blooming on his eyes, nose and chin. Dry blood caked nostrils and lips, but there was a fresh stream running from new gashes on his forehead, presumably opened up from his fight with the Grounders. 

“Besides the guy taking two beatings today? _Not much_ ,” Murphy replied sarcastically, taking great pleasure in seeing the warning look she leveled on him at his response. 

_Just like the good old days._

“ _ **Murphy**_ ,” she growled at the man – or boy – before rolling her eyes as she realized that despite the sarcasm, he was offering up helpful information, “Glad to see your humor wasn’t left behind in the Anomaly.” 

“Clarke,” he drawled with a knowing smirk, “I know you missed me, but we should push back the warm and fuzzy reunion until Bellamy’s not around – and not currently dying.” 

“Shut up, Murphy,” the said man groaned out from the ground as he brought a hand to his head, trying to push himself up in a move that had both Clarke and Murphy immediately pushing him back down, “I’m fine, I just need to – “ 

“What you _need_ is to sit back and rest. You might have a concussion,” Clarke chided, gritting her teeth as she watched Bellamy accidentally brush his fingers over one of his bruises, wincing as pain flared at the simple touch. Clarke turned to Murphy and jerked her head at the bunker door, “There should be a First Aid kit down there. Get that along with some blankets and a canteen.” 

Murphy nodded and rushed off, and Clarke felt her lips curl up in gratitude that he didn’t question her or didn’t leave her head spinning with one of his dry, witty comments. 

Miller came up beside her, gun in hand as he questioned, “What can I do?” 

“Wake the others in the Rover and keep an eye out on the perimeter. I don’t trust that me throwing around my old title will be held at face value for much longer. Grounder superstitions only go so far without definitive proof.” 

She heard the boy scoff before turning away, “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” 

Shaking her head in half-agreement at his assessment, she turned her focus back to Bellamy and knew that she wouldn’t be able to tend to him on flat ground. She caught sight of a tree on the edge of the perimeter and sighed. 

“Alright, you’re gonna have to help me out here” she whispered, moving to crouch down next to him, picking up his arm and draping it over her shoulders as her own arm wrapped itself around his waist, “We need to get you to that tree over there.” 

“I can walk by myself, Clarke” Bellamy grumbled as he gently withdrew himself out of her arms, only to stagger on his feet. She hurried to catch him in time before his legs completely failed him and tsked in disapproval. 

She ignored the way disappointment tinged her heart at hearing him call her ‘Clarke’ again and not ‘Princess’ – _what a stupid thing to be disappointed in at a time like this_ \- and she scolded him, 

“Considering you not only fainted in Murphy’s arms but mine, I would say you definitely can’t walk by yourself right now.” 

She grunted as he leaned heavily on her and tried to push through supporting most of his weight, even as his head lulled on her shoulder but she felt his body tremble again and felt exhaustion echo in her own bones. Just as she thought they would fall over once more; she saw the shadow of a person appear on the other side of Bellamy and the weight being shared between herself and the newcomer. 

“Damn, Bellamy, I would have thought younger you would be lighter,” Monty Green's voice rang out playfully as he helped her drag Bellamy to the tree, setting him down gently with his back propped against the tree, “Good to know all that muscle you flashed around camp wasn’t just for show.” 

His jokes were met with silence, one of shock and disbelief. Bellamy had snapped out of whatever exhaustion and daze he had been in and was now staring at his deceased friend like he was staring at a ghost. After walking amongst them for a day, you would think he’d be used to that, but those ghosts didn’t compare to the one kneeling before him. 

“ _Monty?_ ” Bellamy let out a choked whisper, as if by acknowledging the ghost it would make him disappear, “Tell me it’s really _you_.” 

Monty grinned, clapping Bellamy on the shoulder as he reassured him, “Yeah, it’s me, Bellamy.” 

A lone tear broke from his dark brown eyes and down his cheek before he pulled Monty into him, a sob ripping itself from his chest as his arms came up around the Asian boy’s skinny shoulders, gripping his back as he cried for his death, cried for his return, cried for the meaning of what him being here meant. 

_Monty’s back, Monty’s back, Monty’s back – that means –_

“Clarke! You said he needed water?” 

Another girl with blonde hair, a few shades darker than Clarke’s platinum blonde, appeared in his glassy vision and he gasped for the air that his tears robbed him off as Harper’s face appeared over him, her soft brown eyes creased at the corners in concern. 

“Hey, Bell.” 

A wet smile broke out on his face as he turned his head between the Asian boy and the ashy blonde girl and he cried out, “You guys are _actually_ here?” 

Harper laughed before gently wrapping her arms around the man who had become like a brother to her in the eight years they spent on Earth and in space together, where he led them, fought for them, took care of them. A man as close to family as any one of them, a man who she had hoped would become something of a parental figure for their Jordan when they would not be able to. 

“We’re here, Bellamy, we’re really here.” 

His arms came up around them and he brought them into his chest, half crying and half laughing as he blinked back the tears that kept coming down his cheeks. From beside the embracing trio, Clarke smiled, rubbing Harper’s back, reaching down with the other hand to take the canteen from Harper's hands so that she might be able to hug the man properly. 

“I had to fight Monroe for it but it’s the best the Art’s Supply store has to offer so – “ 

Clarke turned her head sharply at the name and narrowed her eyes on Murphy, who had hastened his approach with his arms full of quilts with a white, plastic case on top before freezing at the sight of the two people currently crying in Bellamy’s arms. 

They had also heard the boy and had also turned, their mouths curling up at the sight of Murphy standing there dumbfounded. 

“Murphy,” Monty greeted as he rose to his feet, extending a hand to help Harper off the forest floor, “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” 

Murphy shook his head with a sniff, throwing the quilts on the ground along with the First Aid box, ignoring Clarke’s “ _Hey!_ ” of indignation before storming up to the two grinning ghosts, crushing them in a hug. 

Monty and Harper let out surprised laughs, leaning into him and rubbing at the boy’s shoulders as he whispered, “It’s good to have you back, guys.” 

Harper turned her head as Clarke walked past carrying the supplies, one brow raised as she whispered, “What’s got him sharing the love?” 

Clarke shot the boy another mean look before cracking a smile as she joked, “Probably the fact that you made Murphy sound cool enough to be your son’s favorite.” 

“A truly stupid decision on your part,” Murphy croaked, continuing to shake his head at him, “But I’m not complaining. Your kid has taste and we can’t fault him for it.” 

Monty grinned, clapping Murphy on the back as he muttered, “Yeah, we missed you too, buddy.” 

“Hey, Murphy!” a familiar voice called out from the bunker door, a head popping up with red goggles sitting on top, “Monroe’s bitching about you stealing her quilt. You better apologize before she beats your ass.” 

Jasper Jordan turned to the group with a big, goofy smile that was wiped off his face when he saw Monty and Harper pull out of Murphy’s hug to look at him from over the boy’s shoulder. The boy with the goggles swallowed hard at the matching shell shock on his best friend’s face and he pulled himself out of the hole and picked himself up off of the ground so that he too was standing. 

Swiping his goggles off his head, he shifted on his feet before approaching them, his head bowed a bit, eyes flickering from Murphy to Harper before settling on Monty, who’s face was like stone as he watched him walk towards him. 

He stopped barely four feet away and gulped once more before lifting his head to look Monty in the eye, muttering, “I guess this is the other side, huh?” 

“ _That’s_ what you have to say to me?” 

Jasper flinched, moving back before stuttering, “Listen – “ 

He was cut off by a body colliding with him hard and his breath was knocked out of him. He had no clue what had just happened until he heard Monty’s voice whisper in his ear, “I love you, you idiot. Don’t ever leave me again.” 

_Say you love me, or you’ll regret it, Monty._

_I love you, I love you._

Jasper felt the feeling in his arms return and he raised them slowly, as if Monty might disappear from this miraculous embrace, before folding him up in a hug. His head buried itself in his shoulder and he felt Monty tremble. He closed his eyes and let the feeling of peace, better than he felt from anything death had ever gifted him, wash over him as he whispered back with a smile. 

“I love you too.” 

They stayed like that for what felt like forever until Monty pulled back and when Jasper looked over his best friend’s shoulder, he realized why. Harper walked over to them, giving him a tentative smile as she raised a hand to his cheek. He gave her a broken smile as a tear slid down his cheek. 

“Hey, Harp.” 

She giggled, her own wet cheeks glistening in the fire light before she brought him closer, wrapping him into one of her signature ‘Harper Hugs’. Warmest things on Earth, like being embraced by Mother Nature himself. 

“Jasper.” 

He saw Monty smile from beside her, saw the hand he placed on her shoulder and his eyes flew open. He jumped back and pointed a finger at the two of them. 

“Did you two - ?” he shrieked, jaw dropping as she and Monty exchanged a look, “Did you two get _**hitched**_?” 

“ _Worse_ ,” Monty whispered conspiratorially, laughing when Harper shot him a glare. 

“ _Oh my god_ – you had a kid, didn’t you?” 

“Jordan Jasper Green,” Harper stated proudly, watching the myriad of emotions pass over Jasper’s face 

“That poor kid,” Jasper muttered with a scoff before enveloping the couple in a hug once more. 

“Don’t get too tearful about it,” Murphy called from behind them, “I was the kid’s favorite.” 

Jasper’s middle finger was his answer to that, and it sent Murphy chuckling as he walked back to help Clarke wipe away the dried blood from Bellamy’s face. Clarke and Bellamy had been watching the reunion with glassy eyes, their tears drying on their cheeks but their smiles never straying as the best friends reunited. They glanced at each other and Clarke could see the lucidity return to his deep, brown eyes as they stared up her in something akin to adoration. 

_You’re imagining it, Clarke. Focus on getting the blood out of his eyes before you start interpreting the hidden meanings within them._

His hand stilled her as she brought the wet cloth to his cheek, fingers tracing the backs of her knuckles before he took her hand in between both of his. 

“It all seems so much more possible now, doesn’t it,” he murmured in that low voice of his, his eyes searching her own for reassurance she felt the same hope rising up in her as the one that had gripped his soul since laying eyes on her, “That this is real.” 

She shook her head at him with a smile and told him, “I think it was possible when I saw Jasper this morning.” 

“I’m serious.” 

“I am too,” Clarke insisted, her smile softening in sincerity as she whispered, “This _is_ real, Bellamy. We’re home.” 

“Hey, look, Miller’s here too!” they heard Jasper cry out from behind them, turning around just in time to see the boy run up to wrap the newcomer in a hug while Miller stood shocked stiff at the sight of him before bringing his own arms up to return the hug, his face burrowed in his shoulders but his own giving away the fact that he was actively sobbing. 

“Yeah,” Bellamy choked out as his eyes locked with Miller’s from over Jasper’s shoulder, both red rimmed and full of elation as they stared at one another, “We’re home.” 

After Miller managed to untangle himself from Jasper, he made his way over to where Clarke and Bellamy sat underneath the tree, his rifle resting cradled in his arms like a baby. Bellamy snorted at the familiar sight and his best friend’s greeting, both choosing to ignore the tear tracks running down both their cheeks. Miller spoke first, clearing his throat before grumbling. 

“First day back on Earth and you’ve already gotten yourself in a fight.” 

“ _Two_ fights!” Murphy added as an afterthought from where he was tending to the cut on Bellamy’s cheek, pouring the rubbing alcohol onto the cotton ball before turning to Bellamy with a smile, “This might sting a bit but only if you’re a wuss.” 

“ _Shut up_ , Murphy - ”, Bellamy’s mutter turned into a sharp hiss as Murphy dabbed away at the wound, his smile only growing as his friend cringed. 

“You were saying?” 

\- 

After a while, the kids in the bunker inched themselves out, Monroe’s flaming red hair glinting in the firelight and catching Clarke’s attention as she watched the sleek, black rifle appear strapped to her back as she rose up from the bunker door. 

Like the soldier she was at heart, Clarke watched as the girl checked the trees above and the surrounding perimeter before shouting the all clear back down at the rest of them, turning to glimpse Miller and Clarke from where they hovered over Bellamy, forcing the canteen to his lips while Murphy wiped at the cuts on the man’s face. 

“About time you lot showed up!” the red head called out with a grin as she got to her feet to approach them, stopping briefly to swat Jasper over the head for the ‘bitch’ comment from earlier and to hug Monty and Harper before stopping at Bellamy’s feet, nudging the quilt that had been draped over him. 

“You’re lucky I like you, man, otherwise I would give you hell for stealing my quilt.” 

Bellamy cracked a smile at that, “You can always come join me, Monroe.” 

Miller and Murphy scoffed in unison, the former stopping to glare at the boy beside Bellamy. Clarke sighed, knowing very well that Miller still held some grudges. A lot of them would and it was going to be hard preaching reconciliation with the enemies of the past when some of those enemies used to be their friends. 

Monroe rolled her eyes at the three guys before turning to Clarke with soft eyes, “It’s good to have you back. Where do you want me?” 

The blonde girl shared a look with Miller, who stood to her right, and he nodded at the unspoken message before answering Monroe himself, “I need everybody in your group with a gun on the perimeter with me. Clarke dealt with the Grounders who attacked Bellamy, but we can’t be too careful.” 

The red head nodded at that before inclining her head for Miller to follow her as she walked over to a group of people, Jasper and Murphy following as black firearms flashed in their movements. Clarke froze at seeing a gun in Jasper’s hands, her own pausing in their tender motions against the grazes and cuts on Bellamy’s face. 

His hand, the one that was still wrapped in hers, squeezed her palm to get her attention and she looked down at him, meeting his own wary gaze. 

“He’ll be okay,” Bellamy reassured her quietly as they turned to watch Jasper give Harper the gun with a smile while Monty shook his head at them both, “At least, he will be okay with a gun.” 

“How did he seem? You know, when he was with your group?” 

Bellamy shook his head before murmuring in a low voice, “Clarke. It’s his first day back on _Earth_. It’s the first day for every single one of them. None of us are going to be okay for a while but – “ 

He paused for a moment to watch Jasper and Monty clap their hands in unison while Harper giggled before taking up a position on the northern point of the perimeter, setting themselves down side by side, their chatter drifting through the wind over to them and coaxing smiles on the two leader’s faces. 

“We’ll get there,” he finished, determination lacing his rough tone, “This is our second chance and we’re going to take it.” 

She didn’t have the heart to bring any of her usual pessimistic worries up. Not when he held her hand and spoke in that gravelly, rough voice from the past. A past they were living right now but not in quite the same way. So, she nodded in agreement and settled down beside him, their hands entwined with each other as they came to settle in the space beneath their thighs. 

It reminded her of the night they killed Dax together, a twisted, sickening experience that solidified their partnership all those years ago. Where they sat under the tree a few feet away from the cooling body of one of the Hundred, exhaustion rattling through their bones and their wounds stinging in the cool evening breeze as she told him for the first time. 

_“I need you, Bellamy. We need you.”_

It was over a hundred years later but it still rang true for her. For everyone else, but especially for her. 

They sat there and watched as their people reunited, tears, and smiles and screams of pure relief ringing out, screams they didn’t have the heart to shush them for. 

They watched how Miller directed the kids in a clear, no-nonsense voice that had everybody straightening their backs on reflex A handful of them moved to take up defensive positions around the perimeter, in groups of three to four. Half of them, the half who had no training in combat and were of the younger variety, went back into the bunker while the rest took up the space between the perimeter and the bunker door. They all did what they were told, but not without throwing a laugh or a taunt back, one that was playfully shut down with a reluctant smile from the boy who had been a soldier his entire life and didn’t need to adjust to putting himself in the role again. 

_At least the orders are my own this time_ , Miller thought as he headed to the southern point of the perimeter, the one closest to the Rover. Monroe and Roma followed closely behind him where they set themselves up for lookout. Ever watchful, Miller took up the space against the side of the tree, his rifle propped up on his knees and pointed towards the trees. Monroe settled in the center in a similar position, her shoulder nudging Miller’s shoulder playfully on her way down. Without needing to say a word, Roma laid back on the ground between them, her hand brushing against Monroe’s thigh in an unconscious attempt to reach a source of comfort. A second later, their hands were wrapped around each other with no sign that they would be letting go anytime soon. 

Clarke felt tension flood Bellamy’s shoulder when he noticed Wells move out into the open, the boy looking around at everyone finding friends in the crowd and sticking to them. She heard Bellamy’s gasp and turned to him with her own watery smile when he began in a rough voice, “ _Clarke_ – “ 

“I know.” 

She looked back to Wells and inclined her head to him, telling him to come over. Wells hesitated for a moment before walking towards them, his face carefully composed in neutrality as he looked between his best friend, the guy who made it his business to antagonize them since day one in camp and the guy who made it his business to antagonize…well, everyone he came across. 

As if reading his mind, John Murphy’s lips curled up into a smirk and he could already here the smartass comments. Murphy did not disappoint. 

“If it isn’t the Chancellor of Earth,” the boy announced dramatically, arms spread wide in mock tribulation as he gestured to Wells, “Don’t you look good for a dead guy?” 

Clarke internally slapped her hand to her forehead. Bellamy released a heavy sigh from beside her, one tinged in both the physical pain from his beating and the mental pain one usually developed from being in Murphy’s presence for too long. 

Wells frowned slightly, not knowing how to respond to the boy. Murphy sensed that his two friends weren’t impressed with his attempts at humor and he groaned. 

“It was a _joke_ ,” he drawled with a roll of his eyes, “Please tell me we can still do that? The Anomaly didn’t rob you all of living a little, did it? If that’s the case, I say we should just bite the bullet now and get it over and done with.” 

“What Murphy _means_ to say,” Bellamy cut in, sending a pointed look at the boy beside him before sliding a significantly softer, more regretful look towards Wells, “Is it’s good to see you again.” 

Clarke smiled slightly at that. She knew that when Wells - when he died, him and Bellamy were rivals, if not antagonistic. Wells remembered only the Bellamy of the early dropship days, the dickhead who would have rather got rid of them both then have them challenge his influence over the Delinquents. After all, he needed them to listen to him in order to get them to take off their wristbands so that the rest of the Ark wouldn’t come down and he could escape prosecution for his crimes against Jaha. 

She remembered, with the same sadness that usually accompanied thoughts of Wells, that her best friend had died before he could get to _know_ Bellamy. The Bellamy that risked his life saving the lives of the Hundred. The Bellamy that put aside his ego and his pride to lead beside her. The Bellamy that went inside the Mountain to save their people from being drilled for their bone marrow. The Bellamy that infiltrated an Azgeda army to save her life after she left him. The Bellamy that took care of their friends in space when he thought she was dead. The Bellamy that brought her back to life after the Primes took it. 

Wells never got to meet the **real** Bellamy. Her best friend, her partner. The heart to her head. 

Until now. 

Her best friend and her childhood friend seemed at lost for words, more interested in studying each other silently, one looking on with guilt and the other searchingly before Wells nodded. 

“It’s good to be seen, I guess,” Wells cleared his throat, shifting on his feet before he murmured, “I heard. What you did for Clarke, all those years. What you did for them all.” 

Bellamy reared back at that and Clarke ducked her head to hide the red tinting her cheeks. She thanked the Gods that he mentioned the rest of their people otherwise she would have thought Wells had the wrong idea of just who exactly Bellamy was to her. 

_Or the right idea, but that’s technicalities I can’t afford to think about right now._

Wells seemed to gather that the shock on Bellamy’s face was more to do with the fact he knew anything about they had been through and quickly rushed to explain. 

“Miller. He told me.” 

“How much?” Murphy spoke up from her far left, his eyes narrowed on the dark-skinned boy in suspicion. 

“Up to Sanctum. He didn’t go into detail, but he told me what you guys faced together. What you and Clarke did to keep everyone alive,” Wells nodded to Bellamy. 

“Ah, and did Wells mention me by any chance? Like, that time in Polis – “ 

“I just wanted to say thank you,” Wells rushed out, his eyes looking everywhere but Bellamy as he choked, “Thank you for being there when I couldn’t. For looking out for her.” 

“We looked out for each other,” Bellamy replied quickly, as if he had someone say something similar before then. He cleared his throat before adding, “And we’ll continue to do so. To look out for everyone, I mean.” 

_Including you_ , was what he meant, amongst other things that he silently implied. Wells seemed to understand that because he blinked at him in surprise before nodding imperceptibly. 

Wells turned to his best friend, who had been watching the young man beside her with a look that he couldn’t fathom before he told her, “I’m going to see if Miller needs another pair of eyes. It’s clear that the people from your group are exhausted. I’ll see if I can take over so one of them can sleep.” 

“You need rest too,” Clarke insisted firmly as she turned to look up at him with stern eyes. 

He resisted the urge to smile at her bossy tone before he informed her, “I woke up this afternoon. I’m the last person who needs sleep. As I hear it, the ones who probably deserve it the most are you guys.” 

“Too fucking true,” Murphy muttered from beside Bellamy, shrugging without regret when Bellamy and Clarke shot him a look of tired annoyance that summoned a pang of longing within Wells as he watched the two co-leaders roll their eyes at their friend before turning back to him. 

He knew that he had a lot to learn, especially about the newfound dynamic between his best friend and the man who he once considered a rival. Things had changed between the two, something deeper and more earnest than just an alliance that was founded on survival. Hell, he might even dare to say that it surpassed friendship, at least the friendship they demonstrated when sharing tired sighs at Murphy’s sarcasm. 

Wells still didn’t know what to make of it but he knew one thing was for sure. He didn’t have to worry about Bellamy Blake being a threat to him anymore. Or the girl leaning into his side, their forgotten hands still clutching at each other as if to anchor themselves to this reality, to each other. 

“We rotate in two-hour intervals. Tell Miller to get someone to take over for you so you can rest before sunup,” Bellamy’s voice halted him as turned around to head over to the southern perimeter, “We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow. Everyone will need to rest up.” 

Wells nodded once more before walking off and Clarke watched with brows furrowed in concern as he greeted Miller, the latter passing him a sleek handgun that she recognized to be one of the ones he had stolen from the guards in the tent. Wells nodded at him before sitting down on the other side of the tree, giving Monroe a tentative smile when she said something to him on his way over. 

“He’s going to be okay,” Bellamy reassured her, his hand squeezing hers. 

At the reminder that they were still holding hands, her eyes widened in shock before she slid her own out of his grip, swallowing hard as she shifted to give his wounds another once over before she abruptly stood up, rushing out an excuse about how she needed to do her rounds before hurrying off. 

Bellamy’s eyes followed her with an intensity that bore into her skin, and he knew she could still feel his gaze by the way she looked everywhere but in his direction. He dragged his attention away from his best friend when Murphy started snickering beside him. 

“That didn’t take very long,” the cockroach commented slyly, his mouth pulled up in a crooked grin. 

Bellamy had just enough strength to shove him, but not enough for it to do more than jolt the boy slightly as he grunted, “ _Shut up_ , Murphy.” 

“I’m not judging you, Bellamy. Second chances are second chances. This one has been a long time coming,” the boy murmured as he turned his eyes to the blonde girl walking around the perimeter, checking in on their people with a faint smile and eyes that stared suspiciously forward, “A hundred years or so, I say.” 

Bellamy scowled at that before mumbling, “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“You seem to forget, Bellamy, I have been with you both since the Dropship. When you think about it, without me being a huge pain in the ass, you two would never have gotten over your pride and started working together. Holy shit, _I_ was the catalyst for all of this!” Murphy exclaimed as he wildly gestured to the space between Bellamy and Clarke, “So, yeah, I think I do know what I’m talking about.” 

Bellamy didn’t say anything, didn’t want to give his friend any more credit than he had already claimed for himself. It was true, what Murphy said. If it weren’t for Murphy going after Charlotte after she told everyone she was the one who killed Wells, he and Clarke wouldn’t have finally agreed on something for once and worked together to smuggle her out of camp. If it weren’t for the confrontation with Murphy on the cliff, him and Clarke wouldn’t have solidified their shared feelings on grief and pain over Charlotte’s death, nor their shared responsibility over Murphy’s banishment. 

Until he remembered. 

“You know, you don’t get _all_ the credit,” Bellamy murmured quietly, feeling a bit of satisfaction at seeing Murphy’s head snap towards him with a raised eyebrow, “ _Atom_ was the catalyst. His death, I mean. If it wasn’t for Clarke taking the knife – the knife to put him out of his misery, I would have broken down. I owed her for that. That was the moment we stopped seeing each other as rivals and as – “ 

Bellamy struggled with the words and Murphy lunged onto that weakness, that empty space eagerly. 

“I think the word your trying to say is l– “ 

“ _People_ ,” Bellamy interrupted quickly, sending a glare at his friend, “We started seeing each other _people_. Not rivals, not enemies. She stopped being the princess of Alpha station when she killed Atom. When she did what I couldn’t.” 

Murphy fell silent at that and if Bellamy was in any kind of mood to joke around, he would tease the cockroach for finally being caught speechless. Although, he wouldn’t call the expression on Murphy’s face one that came from being at a loss of words. No, his long face still held a hint of knowing, of smugness but his eyes, so old and tired as they stood out from his young features, held a knowing of a different kind. 

It was a kind of knowing that made Bellamy turn away from his friend, his gaze dragging the campsite until they fell on who they were looking for. There she was, Clarke Griffin, falling back into old habits as if the presence of all these scared, desperate, haunted kids called forth the person she used to be. Before Sanctum, before the Valley, before Praimfaya, before ALIE. Before Lexa, before the Mountain, before Finn. The girl who first came out of the Dropship, blue eyes set with a determination to survive and to save as many kids as she could. Those same blue eyes that used to challenge him were now bright, brows furrowed in concern as she chatted animatedly to Mel and Sterling on the opposite side of the campfire. 

It didn’t cross his mind until that moment about why the hell Mel was there, or how she knew anything of the past. Last he saw of the girl, she was inside the bunker with her hood drawn over her head and her eyes darting to the ceiling in concern. He never knew what happened to her after that but the stories he heard of the Dark Year and the violent reign of Blodreina gave him some ideas. Whatever the reasons, he was glad she was here. She never belonged with the Ark. The fighting spirit he saw in her when he and the others had taken her back to Camp Jaha, as it was called then, was worthy of any Delinquent. None of this made sense but Mel's appearance here made the most out of all of it, especially when he noticed the boy at her side. 

His eyes softened at the sight of Sterling’s arm wrapped around her shoulders, his hand moving eccentrically as he said something to Clarke that made the two girls start laughing softly. He remembered what happened to Sterling. The boy had survived the Ring of Fire and the battle at camp, running with Bellamy and Finn alongside Monroe for two whole days before they were caught by the guardsmen from the Ark. They were the only four besides Murphy and Raven to be left behind, all of them presumed dead by their people trapped in the Mountain. He remembered the boy's last day on Earth, when they had volunteered to help the Ark find the survivors of the Ark’s crash. Sterling saw Mel and didn’t hesitate to climb down. His last act was saving his friend. 

Now they sat together, arms around each other, looking more at peace here in the camp then when he saw them last. Clarke leaned in to prod at Mel’s split lip, smiling softly before advising her on how to treat it. He felt his lips twitch when he saw Sterling salute her and how the blonde girl stood up with a shake of her head before moving on to the next group. 

He didn’t realize that someone was hovering over him until Murphy jumped back, face pale as if he had seen a ghost. Bellamy should have known that in a camp full of ghost, he would be bound to come across another one in such a short time. 

“Bellamy?” the high pitched voice called out tentatively before clearing her throat, “Murphy.” 

He knew without having to look up. He knew without even having to remember. He knew, even before the boy beside him choked out in shock, “ _Charlotte_.” 

The girl’s soft footsteps tread closer until she was directly in front of him. It was her brown boots that stood at his eye level, blue fleece trousers tucked into them snuggly. She wore the same grey sweater with the white undershirt sticking out at the bottom, her tiny fingers playing with it nervously as she waited for him to look up. When he did, he felt the sting tears. 

“Bellamy?” 

He shook his head and sat up, wincing as he did so. He was grateful Clarke currently had her back turned because she would have a fit if she saw him trying to get up after she had settled him down. Using the tree to brace himself, he got to his feet and hoped that nobody saw how his knees trembled as he stared down at the little girl before him. 

“Bellamy, I – “ she started, her eyes creased at the corners as they flickered from himself to the boy still on the ground, “I’m so – Bellamy, I’m _so_ sorry – “ 

He wrapped his arm around her and brought her to his chest, the girl freezing up in his arms before she began to cry, wrapping both her arms around his stomach and burying her face into his shirt. He patted her ashy blonde hair with one hand while he used the other to prop himself up so that he didn’t put too much of his weight on the small girl, on this small wisp of a girl that had haunted his nightmares for over a century. 

“I’m sorry I failed you, Charlotte,” he whispered into her hair, “I’m sorry that I wasn’t there in the way you truly needed. I’m sorry. I’m so, _so_ sorry.” 

He felt her nod against him before she pulled away, stepping back with a hand already brushing against the tears running down her cheeks before she turned her attention back to Murphy. Bellamy frowned as he watched her step forward slowly, as if Murphy were a wounded animal that would lash out at her if she moved too fast. He tensed up when she sank to her knees a few feet away from the boy on the ground and stammered out the words. 

“Murphy – I – I know that what I did was wrong. I know that I _should_ have told them when they first – when they first started – started _accusing_ you – but – but it seemed that killing – that **murdering** Wells – didn’t – “ Charlotte craned her head over her shoulders to Bellamy, eyes begging for him to understand what she was trying to say. His eyes darkened with the memory of the advice that drove her to murder. 

_“Slay your demons when you’re awake. They won’t be there to get you when you sleep.”_

He nodded back to show that he understood. Slaying your demons didn’t erase them. It only kept them with you forever. It took a long time for him to learn that and it was one of the regrets he carried with him, that he learnt to late. That he wasn't there to save Charlotte from hers when they drove her to jump off the cliff into the ravine. 

Charlotte gave him a watery smile before turning back to Murphy as she cried, “I _should_ have been brave. I should have – I should have owned up to my mistakes instead of letting you take the blame, instead of – instead of letting them – letting them _hang_ – “ 

Her barely strung together sentences slurred into sobs as the last word turned acidic in her mouth. Both of the older boys knew what it tasted like, to admit your sins. Murphy, for one, hated seeing another kid break under the weight of them. He thought he had left that life, a life where children had to carry the weight of their mistakes on their chest everyday, behind. He thought it was gone for good when Sheidheda was eradicated from Madi Griffin’s mind. 

He swore he would never let another kid live like they did. 

He never thought the promise would extend to the girl he had already let down, the girl who had inspired that promise with her death. 

Charlotte flinched at the feeling of Murphy’s hand settling on her shoulder and the older boy pulled it back to raise both of them in the air to show he meant no harm as he murmured, “Easy – _easy_. I’m not going to hurt you.” 

Her grey blue eyes widened in fear as he dared to bring his hand closer again, not looking away as it slowly came down on her shoulder once more. When frantically looked back at the boy, she frowned. The Murphy she remembered, the one who, for her, was only hunting her down like a rabid dog the day before, had eyes that were usually edged in a cruel kind of amusement, one that made her shy away behind Bellamy when she joined the boys in hunting. She remembered how the Murphy she knew would drawl his words, even while he was in a fit of rage. 

The Murphy who looked down at her now was none of that and she caught a glimpse of the future that Clarke and her friends had lived. That _this_ Murphy had lived. While he still wore the face of the boy who watched her throw herself over the cliff, his eyes were older, wiser. Soft, like an adult who knew what it was like, to have that stone sit in your chest for what you had done. 

“Look, kid, I – you don’t have to apologize to me,” the older boy began, the corners of his lips pulling up in a sad smile, “What you did was wrong, and you knew that. You knew that. But just like all of us, you were only a – you were only a _kid_ , Charlotte, and I – I chased you out of that camp and forced you to – “ 

Murphy didn’t cry in front of people, she realized, but he might have come close to it just now before he took a deep breathe, his hand tightening on her shoulder as he told her in a firm voice, “ _I’m_ the one – I’m the one who’s sorry and I **swear** to whoever or whatever it was that brought us all back here, that brought _you_ back, that I will make it up to you. I won’t let another kid get killed because of me.” 

Bellamy stepped forward and placed a hand on both of their shoulders before correcting him gently, “Because of _us_ , Murphy. Clarke and I – we didn’t – it was _our_ responsibility – “ 

“It was no one’s fault but mine,” the little girl interrupted, her voice loud enough that it drew Clarke’s attention from where she stood over Mbege and Fox to the tree on Murphy’s left, her eyes widening when she saw the older boys gathered around Charlotte, “I was the one who murdered Wells. I was the one who let Murphy hang. I was the one who jumped over the cliff. The last one is the only one I don’t regret doing.” 

It made the older boys sick to their stomach to hear this kid, this girl who died when she was no more than thirteen, say that she didn’t regret the choice to jump off into the ravine. To know that the guilt of what she had done was so strong, that it _still_ remained strong enough, for her to stand by that choice. Bellamy and Murphy exchanged a dark look. 

They shouldn’t have to live like this – with these fears and these mistakes and these guilts attached to them, even after coming back from the dead. The Hundred had died to atone for what they were forced to do on the ground. It was different for Bellamy and Murphy. They never had the chance to die for their sins. They spent years, literal _centuries_ fighting for peace and exacting violence and chaos and pain wherever they went. They were adults and they had that time to face their fears, over and over again. They made up for their mistakes only to make more. Their guilt only grew until they were haunted men and women, ghosts of the kids they were. 

Bellamy, Murphy, Clarke, Miller, Octavia – Raven, wherever the hell she was right now. 

That’s when Bellamy realized. He wasn’t the only adult in this camp anymore. Not the guardsman. Decker Whelan didn’t count. He had years on him that the man would never be able to comprehend. 

His friends – _they_ were the only ones who understood what needed to be done in order to find peace. 

Monty and Harper, they _**found**_ peace. They lived an entire lifetime together, knew a lifetime without war, without violence, without pain. They were happy. They made a family, a kid. Bellamy refused to believe that the life they made, that they fought for, wasn’t possible for them all. 

As his head snapped up to watch as the blonde girl finished talking with Mbege and Fox to walk over to them, her eyes flashing with concern and a protectiveness that made his heart yearn, Bellamy swore to each and every single one of them that he would make sure they all had a chance at that lifetime. 

“Hey. I checked everyone and it seems that besides a little dehydration and some bruises, everyone is okay,” Clarke greeted when she came upon them, her eyes flickering from where Murphy still had his hand on Charlotte’s shoulder, to where the girl was kneeling down with tears still running down her eyes up to where Bellamy, who smiled reassuringly at the silent question in her eyes that satisfied her enough that she moved on. 

Unfortunately, it made her move on to noticing that he was standing up and that look slipped back on her face oncemore. It was a look that made him think of a future where when someone called for Doctor Griffin, it wasn't Abby who would rush out. 

“What are you doing standing up? Murphy, Charlotte, help him down please.” 

_There she is._

“Clarke, I’m _fine_ ,” Bellamy grumbled as he stepped back from where the two had risen to their feet to do what Clarke asked, “Charlotte, how’re about you go sit with Mel and Sterling and get some sleep?” 

The girl’s head turned between the older girl and boy who glared at each other before nodding, sending a wobbly smile at him before turning on her heel to make her way over to the other side of the camp. 

Murphy rolled his eyes over to send a dry look at his two friends, his mouth twisting up into a wry grin as he told them both, “You’re being ridiculous right now, you know that right?” 

“He needs to sit down – “ 

“I told you, I’m _**fine**_ – “ 

“You literally had two beatings today but go off,” Murphy drawled, falling back to lean against the tree. 

“ ** _Shut up_** , Murphy.” 

The younger boy scoffed before crossing his arms, “I get that’s your go to phrase whenever you can’t be bothered _actually_ dealing with what I have to say, Bellamy, but right now, I’m with Clarke. Sit the hell down before you strain your brain trying to find something actually witty to say to me and then maybe, just _maybe_ , you’ll convince us that you’re in anyway _**fine**_.” 

Clarke stepped forward before Bellamy could strain himself giving Murphy a beating or two, her hand pressing firmly against his chest as he surged forward, “You know that if me and Murphy are agreeing, it’s bad. _Please_ , Bellamy, just sit down.” 

“If you children are done arguing,” a new voice interrupted, all three heads snapping to where Decker Whelan and Sargent Miller were approaching with Aslynn and Bek jogging to catch up to them, “We would like that explanation. **Now**.” 

“Woah, woah, woah,” Murphy kicked off the tree, moving around Bellamy and Clarke to stand in front of the two adults with a lazy smirk on his face as he said, “I get that you're confused. Maybe a little scared at the fact you’re _clearly_ not in charge here but if you could just give us one moment where you just sit tight, we’ll be happy to answer your questions.” 

He began to turn around when Decker grabbed his arm, roughly pulling him back as he snarled, “ **Listen** , _kid_ , I did what you wanted. I helped you and your wayward friends with your coup and in exchange, you told me where I would find my niece so answer my goddamn– “ 

Their argument put on pause for the time being, Bellamy and Clarke started forward to intervene before Murphy threw out a hand to stop them with a look that basically screamed, _I can handle this jackass._

“Okay, **one** ,” Murphy cut in with a dangerously low voice, his head turning slowly to meet the man’s angry gaze head on, “ _Don’t grab me like that again_. Despite what you might think, I’m not a kid and especially not yours. If you want to stay here, you need to learn that none of us are. Not even Az, who might I say, looks great now that I helped you find her - thanks for acknowledging how both of us kept our word. It showed just how unnecessary this ugly show of brute force was.” 

"Two," shucking the man’s hand off of him, Murphy straightened his jacket like he was severely inconvenienced before turning around fully to face both of the men as he explained calmly, “What _exactly_ do you want to know?” 

Sargent Miller cleared his throat before stepping forward, sharing a look with Decker that he would handle them – something that made Murphy internally scoff at the realization they still thought they held any authority over them – before smiling tightly. 

“We just want to know what is going on here. With you kids. You have to understand that the things you guys have been saying don’t make any sense. We just want to make sense of it. We just want you all to be safe, that’s it.” 

“Sargent Miller. You’ve always been a pretty cool dude. For a _guardsman_ , that is,” Murphy added as an afterthought, “So I’ll give you one better. We’ll tell you everything we know – “ 

Clarke and Bellamy didn’t like that idea as they moved to protest, “ _Murphy_ – “ 

He shot them another look, one that screamed for them to _just trust me for once in our fucking lives_ , before turning back to the adults, cocking his head with a smirk, “but I warn you. It will be hard to believe and even harder to swallow. Are you sure you **really** wanna know?” 

Decker grunted in what would have been amusement, if he weren’t getting even more annoyed by the kid’s antics with every passing minute he kept them up. 

“Come on, kid. Just tell us what we wanna know.” 

“Alright, you might want to sit down for this one though,” Murphy sighed heavily, taking back his spot at three and sliding down until the ground came up under him with a jolt that made him wince. He waited for the men to follow suit and wasn’t in the least bit surprised when they remained standing with stoic expressions on their face. 

“Suit yourself,” Murphy shrugged as Clarke and Bellamy joined him on the ground, both of them staring forward, faces strained with the knowledge of how the story starts, goes and ends and he didn’t wait for them to prepare themselves – let’s be honest, it’s been a hundred years and he doubted they were ready to relive it all over again – before starting. 

“Once upon a time, a hundred prisoners fell from the sky by people who thought they were expendable. Where were they dropped you ask? Well, on a planet that was thought to have never seen a human alive in almost a hundred years. Boy, were they **wrong**.”


	9. || Murphy's Bed Time Stories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You see, all that ‘Last of Humanity’ shit was kinda just…well, _shit_. What was it that Collins’ said when you came back from your little trip to Mount Weather?” Murphy asked Clarke on his right-hand side, the blonde girl content on drifting off as he recounted the story of their lives, “When the last man from the ground died on the Ark, he wasn’t the last Grounder? That’s what he said right?”
> 
> “Something like that,” Clarke muttered quietly, turning away from him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry for the wait! This chapter picks up right where last chapter left it, so I hope you enjoy! Once again, a reminder that the comment section is open to all and any who might have questions, feedback, criticism. It is not only warmly welcomed, but deeply appreciated by myself to hear what you guys thought and to talk to you about not only this story but the show as well. Anyway, I hope you enjoy and I'm looking forward to hearing from you all x

“You see, all that ‘Last of Humanity’ shit was kinda just…well, _shit_. What was it that Collins’ said when you came back from your little trip to Mount Weather?” Murphy asked Clarke on his right-hand side, the blonde girl content on drifting off as he recounted the story of their lives, “When the last man from the ground died on the Ark, he wasn’t the last Grounder? That’s what he said right?” 

“Something like that,” Clarke muttered quietly, turning away from him. 

Murphy shrugged it off, knowing that bringing up Finn Collins was one way to get on Clarke’s shit list and he felt like he made his point, turning back to Decker and Sargent Miller, who were staring at him with their brows furrowed so deeply, he was reminded they were actually _really **old**_. 

Not the kind of old he was when he and the others got swallowed up in the Anomaly but _old_ , old. Like, parent old. They _were_ parents, for gods sakes, and it felt like too long since he had seen anyone but Bellamy Blake and Clarke Griffin look at him like that. 

“Are you trying to tell us there are _people_ down here that – that survived the First Bombs?” Sargent Miller questioned, his words dubious but his tone edged on awe. 

Decker shook his head, dismissing the notion straight away, “No. No way. It’s impossible for anyone to have done so. On the small chance that those people were able to by – I don’t know – finding shelters to ride out that sort of biohazard, they wouldn’t be able to survive in an environment with such high levels of radiation.” 

“I thought you were a guardsman, Whelan,” Murphy cocked a brow at him, “That sounds awfully like what someone from Geo-Sci would say.” 

“Shut up and tell us the story, kid.” 

“But I thought you said it was _impossible_ – “ 

“ _Murphy_ , please,” Bellamy murmured lowly on the far side of Clarke, leaning back against the tree as he turned to give him a dry look, “Just tell them what they need to know so they stop asking questions.” 

The boy rolled his eyes, waving his friend off as he turned back to the two men, “Right, right. Where was I? Oh, yes! So, the Ark sent these one hundred kids to the ground with the intention of seeing if the Earth was survivable. Turns out it was the exact _opposite_ of survivable but not because of the radiation – or rather, not _yet_ anyway – “ 

“ _Murphy_ ,” Clarke groaned, scrunching up her nose in annoyance, “Get to the point.” 

“No one appreciates artistic license around here, do they?” the boy snarked before sighing, “Anyway, the kids got down here and on their first day, they were attacked. One of the kids was speared through the chest, right in the middle. He was taken away and they thought he had died – all except for the Princess, _of course_.” 

He nudged the girl beside him playfully and wasn’t in the least bit offended when she swatted his hands away, giving Bellamy a sly grin when the older boy leaned around Clarke to give him a warning look. 

“Anyway, the Princess of these kids challenged the Rebel King, the eldest of the prisoners and the one who had taken charge when they got to the ground,” Murphy told the men, watching out of the corner of his eye as his two friends stiffened from beside him, determinedly looking everywhere but each other as he continued, “The Rebel King wasn’t a prisoner himself though. In fact, he was dressed as one of the people who had locked them up, the hated guardsmen of the Ark (that's you guys, by the way.)" 

He winked at Decker and Sargent Miller, both men giving him unimpressed looks at his antics and Murphy felt his back relax, his arms going to support the back of his head as he leaned against the tree trunk behind him. 

“Why was the Rebel King dressed like this, you ask? Because one of the prisoners was a very, very special girl. His younger sister, the infamous Girl Under the Floor. He risked life and death for his sister, but it was this risk that followed him on the ground. The Rebel King took his place as leader of these children in order to ensure his and his sister’s survival but that put him right in the wrath of the Princess.” 

“The Princess insisted that the kid who was taken was still alive, that he was still worth saving. The Rebel King had his doubts but was persuaded by her charisma, her boldness, and her bravery – “ 

Both Bellamy and Clarke stiffened at that, a memory springing up from the abyss of their long lives. It was the memory of the first time they touched, one that was a bit unorthodox for such a seemingly meaningful moment, especially when you considered that, at the time, Bellamy was threatening her. 

_“Hey, hold up!”_

_They were halfway down the mountain when Bellamy and Murphy caught up with them, and for a moment, she actually felt relief to hear his voice coming out of the trees. It had almost been maddening walking beside Wells in the silence she had forced upon them. Despite the anger that balled itself up in her throat until she struggled to breathe, she had rathered the silence over her former best friend attempting to make conversation with her._

_“What’s the rush? You don’t survive a spear through the heart – “_

_The relief disappeared when she saw the gun Bellamy was waving around and knew that he was showing off. Whether it was the fact that he was the only one with an actual weapon that could protect them or if it was a threat that he had a weapon at all, the arrogance made her shoulders tense up once more and she was content to just keep on walking when Wells lunged towards Bellamy._

_“Put the gun away, Bellamy!”_

_Murphy had pushed Wells to the side, holding a steady hand to his chest as he sneered, “Why don’t you **do** something about it?”_

_Clarke had paid them no mind, not as Bellamy slid around the two to stand over her, his head cocked as if they had all the time in the world. He didn’t see the urgency, not when a spear through the heart sounded like a done deal to the land of the dead._

The irony was not lost on him now. 

_It had annoyed her, seeing him so laidback, clearly not taking any of it seriously and she remembered wanting to put him in his place. A place where he would shut his mouth, lose his smirk and just **listen** to her for once instead of acting like he knew everything._

_“Jasper **screamed** when they moved him. If the spear struck his heart, he’d have died instantly. Doesn’t mean we have time to waste – “_

_She had turned around thinking that would be the end of it when a warm hand encircled her wrist, pulling her back with a tug that might be considered playful if she didn’t absolutely **loath** the owner. Clarke turned around, her eyes wide and blistering with anger at the nerve of this man as he smirked at her, “As soon as you take this wristband off, we can go.”_

_Bellamy had enjoyed pissing her off. It was all in her eyes, a bright, fiery blue that widened in outrage at the bold move. The Princess didn’t like to be manhandled but he could say, or rather, his younger self could say with full confidence that he didn’t mind it, especially when he could claim that just for a second, something so brief that anyone who hadn’t been watching for those eyes to flare up could say it never happened, but for a second, the Princess had been shocked._

_Uneasy. Shaken off her high horse until she remembered herself and climbed back on._

_There was a tense moment where he remembered feeling those sparks again, those sparks that threatened to set off something fearful for the people around them. It was when Clarke ripped her arm out of his thought to be strong grip – he hadn’t noticed he had loosened it until her skin slipped through his fingers – and she leaned in with a dangerous, feral edge to her voice._

_“The only way the Ark is going to think I’m dead, is if I’m dead. **Got it?** ”_

_It was at that moment that he knew that, for a second, he had her. He had her scared, vulnerable, unsure. For the young Bellamy, it was an intoxicating feeling after seeing nothing of her but the fierce Princess who kept trying to one up him with her sly words, her passionate speeches, ones riddled with logic that only he could undo._

_Bellamy remembered leaning back from her with that smirk that he was learning made her want to kill, his eyes sliding to Murphy beside him in amusement before they landed back on her, considering her for a moment before he murmured appraisingly, “ **Brave Princess**.”_

“ - Not wanting the kids to see weakness in his decision to stay, the Rebel King reluctantly left with the Princess – “ 

Clarke’s lips twitched at that, and as she tilted her head to look at Bellamy, finding his eyes already rolling backwards. She remembered that moment, the exact moment she knew that _she_ had him. She found his weaknesses in a single day. His sister, his influence over the kids and his determinedness to see the Ark stay in space, even if it meant the deaths of everyone inside. 

_“I’m here for you. I heard you have a gun.”_

_“Clarke, what’re you doing?” Wells had questioned, his voice edged with incredulity and opposition. He always knew her plans as she made them. He knew her better than almost everyone else in the world and it was an empty question, already answered._

_She felt her cheeks warm at remembering how Bellamy lifted his shirt up to reveal the gun shoved into the side of his trousers. She hadn’t meant to, she remembered telling herself that her eyes wouldn’t stray from the defiant stare he levelled on her but for just a brief moment, only a second really, her gaze dropped down. A flash of tan, freckled flesh was all she saw before her eyes were on his again._

_“Good. Follow me.”_

_When she saw his lips curl up in a knowing smirk, she had quickly averted her eyes to look at the path leading into the forest, her face strained as she steeled herself for the journey. That was, until she heard him speak up, his voice a bored drawl. The one that he used when he wanted to make it very clear he didn’t care. About her. About the kids. About anything._

_It was a voice of a liar but she remembered only hearing every little truth behind it when he spoke up._

_“And why would I do that?”_

_She couldn’t help how her lips pulled back into a small grin, her brows raised high as she murmured back to him, “Because you want **them** – “_

_Both their eyes slid over to where the kids gathered around the dropship, their loud voices chattering about what Clarke and her group discovered, about what Clarke said about the Ark, about how Bellamy would take care of them, about how Bellamy would lead them. Their names were thrown about with such confidence, such surety and Clarke knew how it would make Bellamy feel to hear the kids believe in him. She also knew what to say, what to do to make sure their faith was shaken._

_And she told him that, “To follow **you**.”_

_She remembered how his brows furrowed as he looked at her, his dark brown eyes searching her own as she smirked up at him, a little bit of karma for the one he gave her when he caught her looking down. It made her feel a kind of way, to have him look at her like that. This man who had single handedly won the confidence, the admiration of almost a hundred kids, looking at her like she was something he couldn’t figure out how to win over._

_Clarke couldn’t help leaning in as she whispered tauntingly, “Right now, they only think **one of us** is scared.”_

Bellamy shifted from beside her and bit his tongue from arguing against Murphy’s story. Although, it was difficult coming up with something other than ‘shut the fuck up’ and ‘stop talking shit’ when everything Murphy said was more or less the truth. He wouldn’t admit it to anyone out loud, least of all to the two people sitting on the ground beside him – for different entirely different reasons, mind you – but those characteristics Murphy had listed off were the reasons why he and Clarke ended up working together. They were the reason they became friends, became partners, became co-leaders, became – 

_Don’t go there._

But of course, he couldn’t help it. 

_He remembered it like it was yesterday, the way her piercing blue eyes glittered with a kind of knowledge that had shaken him to the core, that made him tilt his head and study her further, looking for anything that could tell him why this girl seemed to know all his fears, all his wants after facing him down a few times within twenty four hours. It seemed impossible. This girl seemed impossible._

_Impossibly hard to deal with, impossibly hard to handle and impossibly hard to hide from._

_Bellamy remembered the way she whispered, how it slithered over his skin and sent a chill up his spine but also how, as her eyes stared in his, something in the air around them zapped like the wires spilling out of the dropship ceiling from the crash, sparks flying off in a way that made everyone lean back with dread at what could happen if those sparks kept up._

That was how it felt when Bellamy and Clarke looked at each other. At least, that was how it was at first. 

_After Clarke set off with Wells sending warning looks back at him, he had shaken off the feeling of being shoved between a rock and a hard place and had immediately beckoned Murphy over, his voice rough but in the end, sending a message through to the boy who had been silently watching the two interact the whole time._

_“Murphy, come with me.”_

_The Princess isn’t getting away with telling him what to do that easily._

They hadn’t realized that Murphy had continued speaking until they heard the little nicknames he decided to use when referring to them, leaving his lips in a sing song voice that you would usually hear when someone was singing a lullaby or reading a children’s book. Then again, this whole story sounded like it came from a children’s book. Like, a really ugly children’s book. 

“ - The Princess, the Chancellor of Earth, Spacewalker, The Rebel King and the Cockroach all marched off into the wilderness – “ 

He looked around as if realizing something before leaning into Clarke to mutter to herself and Bellamy, “A bit of déjà vu, anyone?” 

Bellamy grunted, “If you don’t tell this _fucking story_ , Murphy – “ 

“Fine, fine,” Murphy rolled his eyes, his lips twitching slightly, “Anyway, they came across the boy and brought him back to the camp so that the Princess could nurse him back to health. But unfortunately, the kids were haunted with the knowledge that they were not the only ones alive down on Earth.” 

“The people who had taken the boy – _Grounders_ , the kids decided to call them - were descendants of the survivors of the bombs and through their history, they had evolved so that they could survive the radiated elements. Because of the harshness of their surroundings, they became a warrior people, taught from birth how to survive wars, famine and pestilence. The only thing they could not survive was Death herself.” 

He practically felt all the muscles in Clarke’s body tighten from beside him as she leaned forward, bracing her arms against her legs and entwining her fingers together but her face remained carefully composed as he continued on with the story. Bellamy, on the other hand, looked like he was ready to jump over Clarke to wring his neck out and Murphy grinned at the feeling of nostalgia that came over him. 

“Death found herself a worthy opponent one day when she came across a lone Mountain, one that the Grounders avoided for fear of those that ruled inside it. The Princess of the Hundred had escaped their clutches but her people had found themselves trapped inside. So, she sought out an alliance with the Commander of the Grounders. The Commander and The Princess led an army to the Mountain, but the Princess was betrayed.” 

“ _ **Murphy.**_ ” 

Another warning from Bellamy, but Clarke had yet to react. To him, that was as good as a thumbs up. 

“The Commander retreated with her own captured people, released on the condition that she would leave peacefully and let the Mountain have the Princess and her people in exchange. But the Princess didn’t give up. Alongside the Girl Under the Floor, they ventured into the heart of the Mountain where they found the Rebel King, who had been sent into the Mountain on the Princess’ command to spy for their people – “ 

Bellamy cleared his throat loudly and Murphy thought he might have seen a ghost of a smile haunt Clarke’s lips before it passed. If only he could say the same for the way Bellamy’s mouth disappeared into a thin line as he sent a glare over her head, his boots tapping the ground impatiently. 

The message was clear. 

_Make it quick or make a run for it._

But Decker and Sargent Miller just looked _so_ interested, so drawn into the narrative he was telling that he _had_ to do it justice. He couldn’t just rush it – rushing a hundred years worth of stories was as informative as someone only using simple sentences to describe something that had happened to them. And everyone knew that Murphy just _loved_ to be informative. 

“The Girl Under the Floor volunteered to find their friends who had slowly, but surely, escaped from the Masters of the Mountain while the Rebel King and the Princess went to rescue their captured people. Unfortunately, it all came down to a single lever. One lever for the lives of their people.” 

The three of them found themselves staring at the trio positioned on the northern point of the perimeter, specifically on the boy in the middle, his red goggles glowing in the firelight as he threw his head full of unruly dark hair back, laughing at a joke his best friend told him. When Murphy turned back to Bellamy and Clarke, he saw the same look in their eyes that he thought just might be reflected back in his own. 

It was a look of understanding, of sad, regretful understanding but understanding nevertheless. He understood why Clarke did what she did. He understood that Bellamy had a hand in it. Bellamy understood that Clarke would always feel like the burden rests solely on her shoulders. Clarke understood that Bellamy would always insist that she share the burden. 

Murphy understood that he was trapped in the fucking lighthouse for months so he wasn’t actually there for none of it but Decker and Sargent Miller didn’t have to know that. Unfortunately, both Bellamy and Clarke did and they were now sending him looks that said that if he didn’t skip to a part where they weren’t committing genocide – which was really hard for Murphy, you see, because when _weren’t_ they committing genocide? – story time would be over. 

_What a cliffhanger that would be?!_

He gave them both a lazy grin, one that he knew would drive them insane and continued on, “That day, the Princess slayed the Mountain and brought her people home. She than disappeared, unable to live with the burden – “ 

Bellamy started to get up and Murphy rushed over that part to where things picked up again, “ _While the Princess was on the run_ , the Grounders looked upon the ruins of the Mountain and shook at the might of her wrath. Death’s shadow had been left on the mighty rock – “ 

Clarke scoffed and he brightened a bit, deciding the dramatics were a keeper as he explained, “The Grounders saw Death and they saw how the Princess commanded it to take her enemies. From that day on, they named her Wanheda, the Commander of Death and she was a Princess no longer. Unfortunately for Wanheda, that meant that the Grounders, a superstitious folk, thought that since a human could command Death, then a human could steal it. Bounty Hunters from all clans came after her but only one succeeded.” 

Clarke smiled faintly at this part, her lashes dropping low to hood her eyes as she watched the flames flicker from the campfire as Murphy went on, “The exiled Prince of the Ice Nation, by the order of the Commander, captured Wanheda and brought her along to Polis, only briefly losing her once when the Rebel King infiltrated an Azgeda army to rescue her – “ 

Her smile dropped at the memory and she found herself staring at Bellamy’s profile as he looked off into the treeline, his jaw clenched. She had a few ideas of what he was thinking, what he was feeling. 

Regret, for not be able to rescue her. Guilt, that Roan bested him and left him wounded, that Clarke chose his life over her freedom. Bitterness, that it led to her being brought to Polis. 

_To Lexa._

She remembered their confrontation in the tower, after Skaikru joined the Coalition and became the thirteenth clan. She remembered the anguish in his eyes as she told him she was staying. Staying for their people. 

_Staying for Lexa._

Back then, she didn’t let herself try to decipher the root of his anguish. They had too much pressure on them to succeed, to keep the fragile, newfound peace between the clans and Skaikru that she couldn’t risk trying to interpret the hidden meaning behind his eyes. Not when they made her feel things that she simply wasn’t prepared to feel, least of all for **him**. 

At the time, their partnership was something that she had grown to rely on, to feed off of in order to strengthen herself against the choices that she made, that they _both_ made. He was different then the others, their friendship was different from the others and it had become a liability. Lexa had shown her that. 

_“I can’t lose you too, okay?” Clarke told Bellamy as they walked beside each other path, after he had challenged her for ordering him not to go into the Mountain. She had just killed Finn, a boy she had fallen in love with and with the threat of how those that she cared for could be taken so cruelly, even at her own hands, she had to act. She didn’t even hesitate before telling Bellamy he wasn’t going inside the Mountain._

_“Weakness?” Clarke questioned, brows furrowed in confusion as she turned to the woman standing beside her before she realized what she was trying to say, what she was trying to warn her of, “Love?”_

_She wouldn’t acknowledge how her voice broke at the word. They were in TonDC, the heart of Trikru. The clan of the people Finn massacred. It was where they were supposed to broker peace between the two people, between herself and Lexa. Lexa had told her the story of Costia, her first love. Her first brush with knowing weakness._

_She had been shocked at the insinuation and had fiercely defended it. Love was what **drove** them, what gave them purpose. Love was what pushed her to do what she did, to spare Finn the pain of a thousand cuts and the most agony a person could go through. Love wasn’t weakness but strength…._

_But Clarke too had become a leader of her people, a people that were fiercely hated for the trespasses against the clans of the Coalition. Clarke was a leader of these hated people and the leader of those clans had only known in her in a brief time and had identified the people that she cared most for._

_Her mother. Octavia._

_**Bellamy.**_

_If Lexa could see these people for who they meant to Clarke, so would her enemies._

_“I thought you hated that plan,” Bellamy had told her when she came up to him in their temporary camp, her face carefully composed and set like stone crafted by the gods that he had told his sister about when she was a child, “That I would get myself killed.”_

_“I was being **weak** ,” Clarke had replied stiffly, keeping the crack out of her voice when she said the last word, “It’s worth the risk.”_

_She wished that she didn’t see the hurt in his eyes, illuminated by the firelight as he nodded once before turning away. She wished that he knew what the word meant to her now, ‘weakness’, and how she couldn’t afford it if it cost him his life, or the lives of everyone they loved. She wished most of all that she could afford such weakness, that they were in any position to accept the cost._

_Clarke remembered seeing Finn for the last time that same night, only a few moments after Bellamy walked away from her. Her eyes had turned glassy at the sight of him standing there, his face sad and withdrawn as he looked at her. Like he knew that she was dooming herself and was disappointed in her for it._

_“Love **is** weakness,” she insisted firmly and he didn’t speak to her as he too walked away nor did he come back to her in the same way after that._

_“Love **is** weakness,” she murmured to herself as a lone tear slid down her cheek as she laid down on the ground on the opposite side of the camp from the others, turning her back to the fire that roared in between them._

_“Love **is** weakness,” she repeated until it set in like an infection, one that by the time she realized her mistake, had taken over her heart._

Clarke hadn’t realized she had been crying until she tasted salt on her lips. Wiping a hand under her eyes, she looked around to see if Murphy or the older men had realized but found that the boy had already started talking about ALIE and the idea of an AI hell bent on killing the human race was _way_ more than a teenager girl sobbing beside them. 

Her shoulders slumped and her back hit the tree once more. She was content to stay like this for the rest of Murphy’s ‘story time’ when her head lulled to the side and she met Bellamy’s eyes. Just like that, her shield was back up as panic gripped her. Her fingers toyed nervously with the end of her braid as she looked away from him and out of the corner of her eye, she saw him raise his hand. Her whole body stilled as she watched his hand hover over her shoulder and for a moment, just a moment, she let herself imagine. 

What did he think, seeing her cry silently beside him as Murphy told the story of Polis? Did he know why her tears fell or did he think that it was for Lexa, who’s story she missed in her own memories of her? Did he think that she cried for the woman that she loved? 

Or did he, in the way that only he could, realize that those tears were for the regrets that lay on her soul, not just for Lexa but for him as well? Did he see those tears and the memories of her weakness and think of how she let him go? How she was willing to risk his life to save their people but not willing to risk his life by letting him – 

The hand stopped and she saw his fingers twitch and knew what he was going to do, holding her breathe anxiously - as it lowered to settle on the ground between them. She saw his jaw tighten, his eyes grow increasingly flinty in the firelight and she didn’t know whether to feel disappointed or relieved when his fingers clenched into the dirt, anchoring him. 

Slowly and as quiet as a whisper, Clarke let out the breathe she had been holding, the air silently escaping through her teeth as her shoulders loosened. Murphy continued on, talking about how they defeated the AI in the tower at Polis and she cast one last glance at the hand on the ground beside her before looking away. 

Back then, he didn’t hesitate before wrapping that hand around her own but, then again, she was the one who reached out for him. It spoke volumes of how things had drastically changed between them that she didn’t know how to reach out for him anymore. That she still felt confused on whether or not she had the right. 

Even after he risked peace on Sanctum to save her. Even after he brought her back to life. Even after they collided together when she came back from Eligius with the rest of their people, the tears staining her cheeks and his arms warm around her as he brought her into them, tightening his hold as if she were the only reason he was still standing by that point – 

Shaking her head from the dangerous thoughts, she tuned back in as Murphy got to the aftermath of ALIE’s defeat, and the news that accompanied Clarke as she came out of the mindrive. 

“You see, by that point, the damage was already done,” the cockroach drawled, his shoulders rolling back against the tree as he cracked his neck from side to side until he breathed out in relief, “The radiation was already well on it’s way and there was nothing we could do to stop it. The only choice we had was to find a place for the human race to survive it – like always.” 

Murphy’s eyes dropped to the Ark insigna on Sargent Miller’s vest and her brows rose when the older man spoke up in a shaken whisper, “Are you trying to imply that the human race has waited for almost a hundred years up in space to come back to the ground, to live and to expand so that we might one day call Earth home again and in less than a year it is wiped out?” 

The boy scoffed, sending his two friends beside him a knowing look as he shrugged, “That’s Earth for you.” 

Bellamy saw how deeply shaken Sargent Miller was by this news and felt the need to reassure him, “The human race survived. We survived and – “ 

Murphy groaned, lifting a hand up to silence the older boy, who looked deeply offended that he was being interrupted as the cockroach reminded him, “I’m telling the story!” 

“You’re telling it like a child,” Clarke muttered in annoyance and it was Murphy this time who looked offended before shaking his head as if that response from Clarke, of all people, was truly shocking. 

“Before I was _rudely_ interrupted – “ Murphy levelled them both with a disdainful look, “I was going to go on and explain that we managed to find a place that was secure and sturdy enough to last us five years. Five years until the earth would be survival again. Unfortunately for a few of us, things didn’t go quite as planned.” 

He didn’t need to look at her for her to know what he was talking about. Murphy’s voice softened a tad from his sardonic drawl, echoes of his own regrets and guilts for what happened to her, that she was alone, that they left her, that before he could thank her for all that she had done for himself and Emori she was gone and that when they got her back again, they found themselves on opposite sides of Octavia’s damn war and then when they woke from cryo and got to Sanctum – 

His voice was heavy with unspoken thoughts, feelings but the air was even more so between Clarke and Bellamy, whose muscles screamed out in agony as they strained in tension from sitting up straighter, from leaning as far away from the other as they possibly could without toppling to the ground. 

It hurt, for them both, that their first instinct when hearing of that day was to shy away from each other. Especially when one of them dreamed of the moment when the other would return, her smile thinning each day as her eyes grew glassy, never relinquishing that grip on the radio as she silently begged the sky to give her back her friends. When that dream haunted the other like a ghost at a window, faint imprints of lips on the head of a bottle that he shared with a dead girl. 

Murphy cleared his throat and cautiously explained, “The storm was coming and the Raven couldn’t wait any longer. None of them could but if the King had a choice – “ 

“ _Murphy_ ,” Bellamy’s whisper was a pained plea if he ever heard one but the cockcroach continued on, his voice growing louder to muffle the noises his friend was making from the other side of the tree. 

“If the King had a choice, he would have waited for Wanheda even if that meant the storm would swallow them all up. He knew it wasn’t what she would want, for her death to be in vain so he let the Raven pull him into the small rocket and they shot into space just as Becca’s lab disappeared under the Death Wave, Wanheda along with it.” 

He paused, letting the story sink in for the two men standing above them and he watched Whelan subtly sway on his feet before he caught himself, clearing his throat. The golden haired man couldn’t help but let his eyes wander to the girl and the young man sitting by his feet and wondered how these two _**children**_ could ever become the types of people to wage wars, to slay mountains, to bring fearsome leaders to heel. To have the weight of an entire race on their shoulders time and time again and to die with that weight. 

Decker wasn’t stupid. The little made up names of the characters in Murphy’s seeming ‘bedtime story’ were as made up as the people in front of him. Those weren’t silly names the boy had made up but titles, _real_ titles given to these children by warriors and he could see it now, like a veil had been lifted. 

The way Bellamy Blake rose his gun on him with the ease of a practiced soldier, even though the boy hadn’t even managed to finish his training as a cadet before he was turned out of the guardsmen. How this _boy_ , barely a man at that, ordered those children around with the authority of someone sure and confident in their loyalty to him, in their _trust_ in him. How he stayed at the back of the group, not because he didn’t know how to lead but because the best leaders always had the backs of their people. 

It made sense now, why those children had cast nervous glances up at the trees. Why they froze like the twisted mutant of a deer he had caught frolicking in the distance whenever the birds would stop chirping or a twig would snap too loudly, like the small, harmless noise had shone a beacon into a forest of hunger that a long line of morsels had appeared. 

Murphy might be a smartass, little shithead of a kid but there was no deception when he told these bedtime stories, not when his eyes, so jaded and glittering with a weary knowing, drifted to his friends at his side when he told a particularly sad or painful part, like the death of the Commander who had stepped in front of a bullet for the woman she loved, for the Commander of Death herself. Or when the fearsome Trikru warrior who had started as an enemy died a loyal friend to the Hundred, forever and always holding the heart of the Girl Under the Floor who became the Skairipa in the wake of her lover’s death. 

They were stories of myth, of legend. Of the same make and material as the ones he used to tell the girls when they were younger and could still be lulled to sleep and safety. 

But as he stared searchingly into the eyes of the three young people in front of them, they were haunted. Not with nightmares but with the _lives they had lived_ and the lives they would have to live again and he couldn’t take seeing those eyes anymore. 

Decker shocked Murphy by being the first of the two men to stop him with a hand, insisting firmly but not unkindly, “Enough. You don’t have to go on. I believe you.” 

His superior officer turned to him with a look of disbelief as he questioned, a bit unsure, “You do?” 

Decker nodded, swallowing hard as he waved a hand at Murphy, “I’m not even going to begin pointing out that there was no way he could have made all that shit up. That would be manic – “ 

“And we all know that I’m _definently not_ that,” Murphy mumbled sarcastically, earning twin glares from Clarke and Bellamy who mouthed, ‘Shut up!’ 

Ignoring them, Decker leaned forward to whisper to the Sargent, “Look at them, David. You can’t fake that kind of pain. I don’t know how, and I don’t want to believe it but you can’t fake that pain. You just can’t. Everything he said, no matter how fucking ridiculous, _has_ to be true.” 

The older man looked a bit hesitant to agree but he let his eyes wander around the camp that the kids had set up, locking eyes with his son from where he sat beside the young Jaha boy and two girls, one with one of the guardsmen issued rifles propped against her knee and the other curled around her, like Nathan used to curl around his pillow when he had nightmares a kid. When his son looked back at him, mouth set in a gruff scowl and eyes narrowed, he thought he _might_ still be the rebellious boy who got caught thieving for whatever reason he had back on the Ark. That it was still _his son_ that looked back at him. 

But he was there, watching on the outskirts when Nathan gathered those kids around, when he sent them off at the north, south, east and western points of the perimeter with that non-nonsense set to his lip, his head lifted high and his eyes set in determination because _this_ was what he did, this was what he was good at. This is what he had been good at for a long, long, long time. His son was _his_ son, he could see it now as Nathan's eyes left his to run over the slumped bodies of his friends with a protectiveness that both warmed his chest and caused it to tighten. The way his hands held the weapon in them like he wouldn’t hesitate to use it if it was to protect them. That familiar clench like he hadn’t hesitated in the past. Not once. 

His son _was_ his son but he wasn’t that same rebellious boy caught thieving in the Ark. He was a soldier, he was a man and he had seen pain and horror and terror like he wouldn’t know. 

They all had and he had no choice but to let his doubt go. 

Turning back to the kids on the ground, Sargent Miller opened his mouth before closing it again. He didn’t know what to say. Questions had sprung up in the absence of his skepticism and he wanted to walk over to his son and hug him, beg him to tell him everything that had hurt him so that he could be ready, so that he could be there for him unlike in the past. Or the future – 

Seeing that his superior officer didn’t know how to proceed, Decker put the older man out of his misery and stepped forward, his arms crossed over his chest as he questioned the younger people, “What do we do now?” 

“Gonna have to be a bit more specific, Whelan,” Murphy clucked his tongue as he played with a stick he had picked out, his fingers itching for something a bit more sharp to play with, like that knife he had made from that wretched piece of scrap metal from the dropship when they first landed, “There’s a lot to do.” 

“Exactly. And by the way you’ve explained it, we have little over a year, maybe less – “ 

“Once again. I’m gonna ask you to be a bit more specific about the it – “ 

“Goddammit, kid, that’s what I’m asking you. What do we do first?” 

All three of their heads snapped up in shock and it shocked them that an adult was putting their trust in them to tell them how to go forth, even after the bombshell of a truth they had just dropped onto the two men. Clarke tried to remember the first time her mother had trusted her to make a decision, to lead _her_ instead of Abby ordering her around and it seemed like it wasn’t until after ALIE, when Clarke and Bellamy went back to Arkadia while Abby and Kane stayed in Polis. 

_That_ was trust. Not in her as a daughter, but in her as a leader. Her and Bellamy both. 

That day, the day they defeated ALIE, where they faced Echo and her Azgeda Army and healed Roan, declaring him King and protector of the Flame, _that_ was the day that Abby and Kane gave them the mantle of leaders. That was the day the adults finally started to trust that they could lead their people. 

Murphy coughed awkwardly, rubbing at his jaw as he gave a side glance to Clarke, muttering lowly, “You’re call, Princess.” 

“I thought that people die when I make one of those?” 

The boy rolled his eyes over to her with a glare as he started, “Are you seriously – “ 

“Guys,” Bellamy grunted, closing his eyes as he pinched a finger to his nose, another headache wrecking through his head. Clarke and Murphy immediately ceased their bickering, both giving the older boy a once over in concern before he waved them off. 

“First things first,” he started, meeting Clarke’s gaze knowingly, “We have to get to the dropship. You said your group came from the one on the mountain. Like last time.” 

“Just like last time.” 

Bellamy felt his chest warm when she said that and turned to the two men, “That’s where we will set up camp. It will give us a good vantage point of the Mountain and any acid fog that they sent our way. It’s in Trikru territory though but it’s a while off from their main village in TonDC. I think we will have another day or two before they send someone back so at first light, we start making our way to the dropship and start cutting down trees to make the walls.” 

Clarke nodded in agreement before moving on, “As soon as we have the walls up, we’ll see if we can seek out Lincoln, maybe help us arrange a meeting with Anya?” 

Murphy snorted, “Because that worked _so well_ last time.” 

The blonde girl threw him a dry look before remarking, “ _Or_ maybe we’ll send you. Maybe you can see your old friend Tristan again.” 

“I know you’re saying that to be hurtful which I thought we were way pass that,” the boy rolled his eyes with an exaggerated sigh, “But I guess one of us wants to keep being a child. I think we should send Octavia. She knows the most about Trikru culture, has the skill and the knowledge of the territory, the customs – not to mention she would be the only one having a chance in hell of escaping if things went sideways.” 

Clarke considered it for a moment before turning to look at Bellamy. She didn’t know why, it had been literal years since he had forgone any responsibility for his sister but she couldn’t help but ask him silently if that was the best call. She had no doubts about Octavia’s ability to defend herself, hell, Clarke thought Murphy might have had the first decent plan in years but she didn’t know Bellamy’s position on possibly giving the okay for his sister to go into the lions den, even with her knowledge and wits about her. 

Bellamy tilted his head back to return her look, nodding slightly to show that the choice was up to Octavia. Clarke looked around the camp and felt the brunette girl’s absence for the first time. Maybe because she had gotten used to not seeing her around Sanctum after she was banished by her brother. Maybe because she subconsciously avoided looking at her whenever she could, unable to see past the blood soaked face and the unfathomable eyes as they watched Madi train like she was a dangerous animal that she didn’t know if she wanted trained or killed. 

But Octavia had come through for them, in the end, meeting her when she sought out Gabriel so she could get Josephine out of her head. Octavia was there when Bellamy brought her back and Clarke remembered staring at her from over her brother’s shoulder, her face shining with tears as her smile wobbled. Whatever bad blood that was spilt on Earth, Octavia _had_ been glad to see Clarke alive. She didn’t want her dead. 

Clarke was surprised to find that the feeling was mutual. Something about the thought of Octavia not being there with them, despite everything they had been through – _because_ of everything they had been through – felt wrong. 

Bellamy saw the silent question in the creases of her eyes and he looked towards the great expense of trees with a wistful look, a ghost of a smile on his face and she knew instantly. _Of course_ , the first thing Octavia would have done with her second chance would be to run into the woods to the one person she wanted to see most again. 

Clarke couldn’t find it within herself to blame the girl and found herself nodding up at the men as she said, “Murphy’s right. Octavia should go. Hopefully the message will be delivered to Polis and we’ll get an invitation but until then, we need to build camp. Need to start stocking food and make shelter – “ 

“What we _need_ is to find the rest of our people,” Bellamy reminded her in a low voice, his gaze sweeping around as he told her quietly, “Over half of them are still dispersed in Trikru territory, some closer to other clans than others.” 

_To Azgeda._

Feeling guilty, Clarke shook her head and murmured, “Right, of course.” 

She knew that, of course she knew that. Their people came first and foremost. But it felt like it had be centuries since she had someone remind her so strongly of the fact when survival of the people closest to her was at the forefront of her mind. Her lips twitched into a smile, earning her raised eyebrows from Bellamy and Murphy both. 

_The Head and Heart are already working together again._

“Look,” Murphy spoke up, addressing Bellamy, “I agree we need the rest of our people – especially Raven because we’ll literally die if she doesn’t show up – but Clarke’s right. We can’t lead the people we have found on a wild goose chase all around Trikru territory.” 

“Every day that we don’t find them is another day they’re probably running scared, confused - or _dead_ ,” Bellamy insisted harshly, shaking his head as if it were non-negotiable. 

Murphy rolled his eyes at both of the leaders and sighed before telling them in a quiet voice. 

“I know that you guys think you have to do all of this alone again but you don’t. Scary as it might be, you have me. You have Miller. You have Monty, Harper, Jasper, Wells – hell, Monroe can hold her own with this bunch. You don’t have to lead alone anymore.” 

Clarke scoffed, “Already working to overthrow me, Murphy?” 

“I’m working to overthrow _both of you_ ,” he corrected her, cracking a smile that she shook her head at before he added in a wistful voice, “Just like old times.” 

Bellamy grunted, “Yeah, how did that work out for you?” 

Murphy shrugged, “Eh, it had its moments.” 

“ _It had its moments?_ You – “ 

“That’s what made them so special, though. That they only happened once.” 

Clarke rolled her eyes before muttering, “I think we should have left you back in the Anomaly.” 

Murphy gave her a dry look before he turned to Bellamy and explained, “I’m being serious here. What better way to change things for the better than to change how to lead. No offense to you guys - you did manage to save our asses time and time again - but you don’t need to do that by yourself. Think about it.” 

He pointed out the trio at the northern point of the perimeter, Jasper already nodding off against Monty’s shoulder, “Jasper’s not going to let what happened in the Mountain happen again. He’s going to be taking a leadership role when the time comes and I think, if you guys truly want peace, if you actually want to do better this time around, you should listen to him with what he has to say.” 

Moving onto the couple watching Jasper doze off he said, “Monty and Harper want to build a life down here where they actually get the chance to raise their son. Jordan deserves a chance to live his life with his parents in it, where his aunts and uncles aren’t his same age and constantly declaring war on everyone they meet. If it comes to war or peace, those two won’t stand aside like they did last time. They’ll say something and if your sister tries to do something batshit crazy like burn Monty’s algae farm again, Harper will shoot her, I have no doubt.” 

Bellamy and Clarke stared at the boy, mouth agape as he told them whats what. When he finally drew his gaze back to them, finding them looking at him in shock, he snorted defensively, "What? You think you two were the only ones that grew up?" 

Bellamy shrugged one shoulder with a sheepish smile before admitting, "I thought that you and Octavia would be the first two to gallivant off into the wilderness after your partners and never speak to us again." 

"I'm really offended you think me and Octavia are the same in any way, shape or form but speaking of your sister,” he drawled, his head lulling to the side to send a playful wink at Bellamy, “How do you think she’s coming with her _houmon_?” 

Clarke smiled at the grounder term, her brow raised quizzically when Bellamy sighed, “By _houmon_ I think you mean Lincoln? Honestly, it could go either way.” 

\- 

Little did he know how right he was because under the forest floor, in a cave lit by a crackling fire illuminating the loose pages filled with sketches of things of marvel, was a girl trapped in manacles that hung with a familiar weight on her wrists. Her long, dark brown hair was streaked in blood, dripping down her head in an eerie feeling that brought her back to a time that she wanted cast out of her mind for good. 

Despite the wound, she remained upright, squaring off her shoulders as she stared at the person across the room as if he were a spirit that would flicker away if she took her eyes off of him for even a moment. Her mouth hung ajar in a half smile, half gasp and it was that expression on her lips that made the person across the room that much more weary of the girl they had caught as she let out a breathy, little laugh of what sounded like amazement, her eyes finally leaving them to flicker around the room before landing on _him_ once more. 

That soft, supple looking mouth of hers curved up in a wry smirk as Octavia Blake sighed, “Looks like some things never change.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few questions:  
> \- What did you think of Murphy's story telling?  
> \- Which part of the story was your favourite?  
> \- What was your favourite line of the chapter?  
> \- What did you think of Bellamy and Clarke's POVs throughout the story?  
> \- What did you think of the Octavia excerpt in the end?  
> \- What are you most looking forward to next chapter?


	10. Lincoln: Blazing Swords

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lincoln Kom Trikru had been walking the borders of Trishanakru and Trikru territories when the people fell from the sky. It was like the sky had been pierced by blazing swords, shooting down to breach the earth. 
> 
> Were these new weapons the _Maunon_ had created to wipe them out for good? What disaster would they bring upon them next?
> 
> If Anya was resorting to sentiments, then he must truly brace himself for what he might be facing on the other side of the forest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few things I would like to address:  
> \- I want to apologize for not updating sooner. As well as struggling with severe writer's block that has affected all my projects including this one, I was dealing with exams, graduation, formal and work so I want to thank you all for your understanding, your beautiful comments and your support for this fic. It means a lot!  
> \- I went with Lincoln's POV for this chapter because one of my readers, viajera_pensativa, suggested that it would be better to see it from his perspective rather than Octavia. I agreed. So, thank you for your suggestion, sweetie and thank you for sitting through my fic. I know Clexa holds your heart, as it holds many others including mine for the brief time she was on show so thank you.  
> \- I want to thank my new beta, Dev_301, for helping me over the month to finally get a chapter for you guys. Her motivation, support and her suggestions are the reasons I was able to make it through this chapter and why I hope to bring you another one soon.

#### PREVIOUSLY…

 _Under the forest floor, in a cave lit by a crackling fire illuminating the loose pages filled with sketches of things of marvel, was a girl trapped in manacles that hung with a familiar weight on her wrists. Her long, dark brown hair was streaked in blood, dripping down her head while an eerie feeling brought her back to a time that she wanted to cast out of her mind for good._

_Despite the wound, she remained upright, squaring off her shoulders as she stared down the person across the room as if he were a spirit that would flicker away if she took her eyes off of him for even a moment. Her mouth hung ajar in a half smile, half gasp and it was that expression on her lips that made the person across the room that much more wary of the girl they had caught as she let out a breathy, little laugh of what sounded like amazement, her eyes finally leaving them to flicker around the room before landing on him once more._

_That soft, supple looking mouth of hers curved up in a wry smirk as Octavia Blake sighed, “Looks like some things never change.”_

#### EARLIER THAT DAY…

Lincoln Kom Trikru had been walking the borders of Trishanakru and Trikru territories when the people fell from the sky. It was like the sky had been pierced by blazing swords, shooting down to breach the earth. It had been a terrible, beautiful sight that sent the Trikru warrior running towards the nearest bridge, knowing that Anya would already have _gonakru_ armed and ready to move forward on the nearest fiery site. 

From the bridge, he could see the smoke from multiple crash sites and felt his blood run cold at the monstrous possibilities that lay before him and his people. Were these new weapons the _Maunon_ had created to wipe them out for good? What disaster would they bring upon them next? 

The thunderous stomp of hooves echoed across the bridge and Lincoln spun to greet the approaching warriors, his eyes narrowed on the one who led them. Anya, warchief who led all Trikru _gonakru_ , swung down from her black steed, her dark blonde braids whipping the air behind her. Tris, Anya’s _seken_ , came down beside her and the two made their way over to him, although their hard eyes were trained on the smoke in the distance. 

“ _Hani?_ " (How many?) 

Anya’s voice betrayed no panic, no fear. Her tone was grim, and Lincoln found his stomach dropping. 

This was as close Anya came to ever showing her unease. 

Lincoln had known her all his life and he had never once seen her uneasy. 

But she was a seasoned warrior, and as was he. He turned around so that the three of them faced the smoke together and he replied, “ _Ai tali op ten, mebi fitin._ " (I counted ten, maybe fifteen) 

Anya threw a tired look at him, “ _Ena, chon ens? Ten o fitin?"_ (Well, which is it? Ten or fifteen?) 

Before Lincoln could answer, Tris stepped forward. Her young face was crafted in the same stone-like expression as her mentor, but her warm brown eyes were creased in strife as she spoke up. 

“They were different - _shepes_. I saw - maybe twelve little ones,” she told Anya in broken _Gonasleng_ before turning to Lincoln, “The largest of them landed further south.” 

He saw Anya nod slightly when Tris turned to confirm her words were accurate before he frowned. 

“What of the Mountain?” 

Tris’ cast a wary glance at the woman standing to her right before shaking her head. 

Lincoln swallowed. This did not bode well with him. If they were weapons of the _Maunon_ , then why would they not land closer to the Mountain? Strategically, it did not make sense to have their weapons land where the clans could possibly reach them. Did they think fear alone would keep them at bay? 

“Lincoln,” Anya finally spoke, her dark brows furrowed slightly as she addressed him. She didn’t look at him and he understood why when she ordered him, “Go to the nearest crash site. Observe but do not attack. Report back at TonDC when you can. Indra will be expecting you.” 

He stared at her for a moment. Anya’s gaze didn’t stray from the trees, but he saw her eyes soften imperceptibly. 

He steeled himself and nodded, preparing himself for what he might face when she murmured quietly under her breath, “Be safe, brother.” 

Lincoln stilled before nodding again and took off to the trees, the pit in his stomach growing deep. If Anya was resorting to sentiments, then he must truly brace himself for what he might be facing on the other side of the forest. 

\- 

Lincoln had taken to the trees as he drew closer to the crash site, his face tightening at the sight of fire engulfing the shrubbery around him. A large chunk of metal sat in a cloud of dark smoke at the center of the ravaged forest. It’s walls glinted in the sunlight that poured through the wide gap it made and practically shimmered with heat. 

Lincoln perched himself on a low branch, wrapping his hands around the wood in order to brace himself, his knuckles turning white from his tight grip. 

If one of these monstrosities could create this much destruction, then what would twelve of them do? What about the south of Trikru territory? What would his land look like after the largest of the metal swords had buried itself into the earth? 

The metal object in front of him hissed and he grunted, shifting closer to the tree for cover. The front of the metal made a loud popping sound and started lowering itself to the ground. It was a sort of door, Lincoln realized as the metal slab touched the ground and the whirring inside came to a stop. 

At the mouth of the door, stood two people. Young, by their posture and their profiles. A man and a woman, both with dark brown hair. They lacked the bulk and armor expected of warriors, but they were young. The age in which warriors were usually in their prime. 

Lincoln’s gaze trailed down their exposed skin for any markings or fleimstikas. His attention caught on the black sleek objects in their hands and he jerked back when he realized what they held. 

_Foyagon_ , the forbidden weapon. 

Legend says that if any of the clans tried to handle a _foyagon_ , the wrath of the Mountain would be brought upon them. 

Lincoln waited. He watched as the woman - or more accurately the girl - brought up the weapon and aimed it at something ahead of her. There was no sign of hesitation on her body or face. The Mountain did not roar in the distance and none came for her daring. 

“ **Try me!** ” the girl’s deadly growl drifted to Lincoln’s ears and his brows rose. 

_Daring, indeed._

Lincoln shifted to get a glimpse of the inside of the small metallic fortress and his hand found the hilt of his sword at what he found. There were people inside, equal to ten _gonakrus_. They were all gathered in a semi-circle around the man and the girl at the entrance, their frightened expressions suggesting that they perceived the man and the girl as a threat. 

_Interesting_ , Lincoln thought as he cocked his head at them, _They’re outsiders. Or, at the very least, not friendly to the majority of the group._

“I wouldn’t try either of us if I were you,” the man at her side told the group, his voice low and full of warning. He seemed to be addressing the three men opposite of them, the one in the middle held up only by his two comrades. He seemed to have been in a sort of fight and even from his position in the trees, Lincoln could see that his nose was bleeding heavily from under the tight pinch of his fingers. 

“ **YOU’RE CRAZY!** ” the wounded man shouted incredulously, his face turning almost as red as the blood running down his face. 

And as the other man turned to glance at the girl by his side, Lincoln almost believed him. His face was a mess of bruises and cuts. His lip was fat and dribbling blood, and his nose looked like it was broken. But he wore a small, secretive smile that was at odds with the situation he faced. 

The man shook his head and threw back his shoulders as he declared strongly, “I’d rather be crazy than a traitor any day of the week!” 

Lincoln leaned back, his eyes narrowed and assessing. The man and the girl seemed to be people of strength and bravery, not afraid to fight and seeming capable of doing so, judging by the marks on the uniformed man’s face. More importantly, they were at odds with the group. The group seemed similar to, if not part of, the _Maunon_. 

If these people were indeed part or at the very least, involved with the _Maunon_ , then seeking an alliance with them might give them an advantage. They might know numbers, weapons, locations. If not allies, then hostages. These people were worth more alive to them than dead. 

Something told him the man and girl would be especially helpful. 

Before he could move, a strong draft swept through the trees, almost knocking Lincoln off balance. Birds began to caw fearfully, and they swept through the branches above his head in a mess of feathers and talons. He caught movement in between the trunks. Deer gathered together in herds, racing through the trees in a blur of golden-brown fur. 

The animals were running from something and there was only one thing fearsome enough to make the birds flee from the trees. 

His hands tugged at the bone carved horn slung over his back and he pulled it to his mouth. Without any hesitation, he blew. 

The man and girl froze from the mouth of the metal fortress and shared a look of horror. Lincoln frowned from where he was perched. They knew, at least in some capacity, of what the horn signaled. Any doubt that they were connected with the _Maunon_ fled his mind as he brought the horn down from his lips. 

But they didn’t move, instead turning back to the group with a casual roll with their shoulders and matching cheeky grins, ones that made Lincoln think that they must be related in order to have the same grin. Sharp and full of wry humor. 

Lincoln growled low in his throat at their lack of action, his own body set to spring from the trees and race to where his home laid at the base of the other mountain, the far less deadly twin to the home of the _Maunon_. 

The man said something else that Lincoln couldn’t quite catch before him and the girl spun on their heel and sprinted for the trees, in the same direction as the mountain. 

The earth began to rumble beneath their feet and without turning to see what the people in the metal fortress did, Lincoln jumped down from his perch and took off after the man and the girl, their laughter drifting back on the wind. 

\- 

These strangers were more crazed than Lincoln originally presumed. After he saw them safely into one of the many caves on the base of the mountain, he had ran to the nearest opening, only managing to make it in time due to the wreckage of trees, hence opening a clear path for him. 

He had waited patiently in that cave until the fog passed, biding his time until he had to resume the task given to him by Anya. The strange pair clearly had knowledge of their territory, of the dangers of what chased them. They knew the mountain was safe, for the most part. Even Lincoln bypassed the threat of Reapers if it meant escaping the fog. 

When it finally cleared, he took to the trees and let his eyes scour for any movement on the caves. To the far corner of the side facing the bridge were two boulders that formed a mouth. Lincoln saw the flash of something black and sleek, peeking out of the shadows of the mouth and he crouched in anticipation. 

A shadow of a man shuffled back from the sunlight and disappeared back into the cave. Lincoln waited. 

A few moments passed before he saw any movement again and when he did, his hand instinctively went to the handle of the sword strapped to his back. Children marched out in two lines, bare of any armor or of any weapon used by the clans but dressed in the same cloth as the strangers from the metal object. Packs were dispersed amongst them, with some holding large sticks and brandishing twisted metal that were presumably supposed to be knives or daggers of ill make. 

However, the boy leading them, with black rubber glinting from his dark unruly hair and a crooked grin on his face, held a black weapon, longer and more complex looking, than the smaller make the strange man from before possessed. 

Another _foyagon_. 

And yet the Mountain did not roar. 

This boy leading the line was tall and lanky, and the pale skin that was exposed was unblemished and smooth, free of kill marks or scars. However, his gait and his posture showed a confidence in his position that implied the boy was no stranger to leading or to danger. Neither were comforting to Lincoln as his gaze trailed over the boy to the two lines following close behind him. 

All were of warrior age and strode with a tension to their shoulders and a steadfast tilt to their heads that demonstrated great caution and yet great determination. Despite this, none bore the symbols of ever knowing conflict. 

At the end of the line, his gaze stopped and his grip on his knife tightened. The young man and girl from earlier walked out of the cave, joined this time by another boy, just older than the girl and wearing a jacket patched with red spikes. 

An older man, possibly Nyko’s age, in a black uniform, similar to the one worn by those people Lincoln spied in the metal object earlier, brought up the rear but his hands were empty of any _foyagon_. 

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The young man and the dark-haired girl took up a position on the right flank of the two lines while the older man circled around to cover the left flank, soon joined by a girl with the same golden blonde hair as him. 

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The boy with the spike patched jacket gave a two-finger salute to the young man and dark haired girl before heading up the line to take a position with the boy with the black rubber on his head and Lincoln frowned. 

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These strangers were smart. 

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They wanted him to see the two at the front as leaders, as the people in charge. It was a move of risks but one that the two boys seemed eager to play. The older man, the one in the black uniform, wasn’t the leader either, nor the young girl at his side. 

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It was the pair covering the right flank who were truly in charge. Lincoln figured they were related, probably siblings. The young man held the _foyagon_ to his chest and his dark gaze held on the trees while the girl at his side seemed at odds with the weapon in her hand and her attention seemed to flick around at the tree line on the ground, as if she wanted to be somewhere else. 

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Lincoln followed the two lines of forty young people for about five minutes before he saw the girl pull aside the young man to whisper to him in a voice too soft for Lincoln’s ears to capture. He watched as the young man frowned down, considering what his kin had told him before his eyes softened in understanding and he nodded. 

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The girl made as if to embrace him but stopped short and something akin to sadness touched her light eyes before she reached out and squeezed the young man’s hand in gratitude. 

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“May we meet again,” the phrase drifted through the wind back to Lincoln, and his brows furrowed. 

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It was not a phrase the clans used but it held the same bittersweet farewell as ones given when a member of a clan had to do their duty and ride into battle. 

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“Get real, Octavia. We’ll see you after you bang your boyfriend,” the boy from earlier, with the spike jacket, walked up to the pair with a smirk. Lincoln was unfamiliar with the term ‘bang’ or ‘boyfriend’ but he knew the boy was teasing the girl. 

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The teasing tone softened a tad as he extended the knife he possessed, well-made compared to what the other children brandished. The girl, Octavia as the boy called her, considered it for a moment before raising a brow at the boy and he sighed, “You look fucking weird with a gun. And I don’t think your _houmon_ will appreciate it.” 

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_Houmon?_

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Lincoln reared back at the boy’s use of _Trigedasleng_ , especially of the word for their significant other. 

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The Trikru warrior considered the girl for a moment, now armed with the knowledge that she was of age to be bonded with someone in such a way. He watched as she stepped forward, her jaw clenched in harsh lines and agitation, as she questioned the other boy harshly. 

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The boy with the patched spike jacket shrugged and spun on his heel, calling over his shoulder, “You’re not the only one with one of those, Your Majesty.” 

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His tone was mocking, especially on the term ‘Your Majesty’ and Lincoln frowned once more. They were allies at best, but they shared a tension that revealed it wasn’t always like that. 

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With the revelation that both of these strangers were bonded, and freely used the terms of the clans, Lincoln found himself wondering if these people were really as closely aligned to the _Maunon_ as they looked or if their cloth did not come close to showing who they really were. 

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Although they shared many similarities with what they observed of the _Maunon_ , these people had knowledge of the Clans, and spoke _Trigedasleng_ casually and with familiarity. The fact that these strangers possibly not only possessed knowledge of the _Maunon_ but of the Clans had Lincoln reconsidering their use as an advantage over the _Maunon_ and considered the danger they presented at having an advantage over the Clans instead. 

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Lincoln rose up on his branch as Octavia murmured one last parting to the young man by her side before she turned and bounded off into the forest, her mahogany brown hair flying in the wind behind her. The young man stared after her wistfully before he turned forward and continued his march. 

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Lincoln’s gaze flickered from the two lines of possible foes to the young girl frolicking off into his clan’s territory. He knew who he had to follow. 

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He waited a few more moments for the strangers to pass before he climbed down from the tree and took off after the girl. 

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\- 

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She took to the mountain. It was a surprising move on her part, one that Lincoln didn’t anticipate as the girl, Octavia, suddenly turned to climb up the mountain’s slope. He frowned as he watched her, her pace unbreaking and as willful as when she first started her sprint to the destination that was still unknown to him. 

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Was she going back to their people, the ones her and her companion left in the metal fortress? Lincoln didn’t think so. The crash site was closer to the bridge, north east of the mountain. She was heading north west, and upwards. Nothing up there but a vantage point that seemed hardly helpful without any means to communicate with the rest of the group that headed south east. He supposed she could have been looking for an indication of where the rest of their people crashed but he didn’t think so. 

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So, he followed her at a distance, moving fast when the flick of her dark hair disappeared behind a tree and stilling when it reappeared over the edge of a rock. She was fast and nimble, and she moved without any hesitation or uncertainty. She knew this mountain, knew the ground she tread on and her ease both fascinated and confused him. 

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They had been climbing for about fifteen minutes as the girl’s once leaping sprint slowed to a fast tread as the slope grew steeper. He watched as she rounded a corner, with one hand braced against stone when she stopped. 

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Lincoln froze and stepped behind a tree, peering around to see what had caught her eye. Under her hand, carved onto the stone wall was a square, with its top and right face showing. It was fractured through the middle and surrounded by a circle. 

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“The Skybox?” her disbelieving murmur sounded suddenly, and Lincoln frowned as he watched her trace the letters carved underneath the symbol, “The Hundred?” 

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A little scoff escaped her lips and her shoulders dropped in recognition as she muttered, “Clarke.” 

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Octavia gazed at the symbol for a moment more before continuing along, but not before whispering, “Don’t worry, Clarke. This is only a detour. I’m not going to get in the way of any of your save the world plans. Not this time around anyway.” 

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It was a bitter reassurance, in Lincoln’s opinion, presumably to whoever this Clarke person was. Octavia walked off and after another puzzled glance at the symbol, Lincoln followed her. 

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Whoever this Clarke person was, they seemed to be of the same people as Octavia and the group marching south east. They seemed to possess the same confidence in walking through Trikru territory as the boy with black rubber on his head and Lincoln wondered just how a group such as this got the nerve to run into danger like they did, how they had the tenacity to walk through his clan’s territory like they owned the place. 

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It did not sit well with him, their knowledge, this confidence. And for this Clarke to mark a piece of Trikru land with a symbol easily recognized by their people, showed either great naivety or great power. For only someone with great power would provoke one of the largest Clans in the Congeda. 

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\- 

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He had been following Octavia up the mountain for a few hours now and she had finally made it to the apex, with the land evening out. Lincoln spied smoke through the trees and felt his stomach drop at the realization that the girl might have a reason to be on the top of the mountain after all. 

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Tris had said that she had seen twelve little metal objects fall from the sky. Lincoln remembered the metal fortress Octavia and the young man had escaped from earlier. He had spied about fifty, maybe more people inside. If there were twelve others with just the same amount of people, the clans were looking at an enemy force of 1,200. 

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Tris had also mentioned the largest of the metal objects had landed south. The numbers flashed behind Lincoln’s eyes in pages full of tally marks and he swallowed hard. He had to get back to TonDC, preferably with more than just numbers. 

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Lincoln prowled forward after the girl, his eyes narrowed on the smoke on the trees and his hands wrapped around his sword. When trees disappeared to give way to a clearing wrecked by another of the metal objects, Lincoln drifted to the tree line and he watched as Octavia approached the huge fortress cautiously, her own knife brought out in front of her in a defensive position. 

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Her footsteps were soundless even to him and he saw no fear in her body, only the apprehension of someone wary of the environment they stepped into. Octavia approached the lowered door and shuffled onto the metal, stopping when a loud scuff sound escaped from underneath her boots. Lincoln cringed alongside the girl and they both waited a moment, for an attack, for an answering sound. 

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When none came, Octavia continued and slowly pulled back the thin cloth that kept anyone on the outside from seeing in. The girl hovered in the doorway before slipping inside and Lincoln stepped forward before remembering himself and stepped back behind the trees. 

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He wondered if the next time she might come out with an army and if she did, what would he do? More tallies, more numbers, more enemies to fight. But this was the same girl who ran with her companion from the group in the metal fortress she landed in. What’s to say that she wouldn’t find enemies herself behind the cloth? And if so, would it be her who comes out next or her body? 

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Lincoln wondered why he cared. One less kill on his part, one less enemy to clash swords with. But he felt almost as uneasy about the thought of this daring girl dead as he did about meeting her in battle. 

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The cloth rustled again, and Lincoln stiffened, pushing back against the trunk of the tree he hid behind. Footsteps scuffed again over the metal door, louder and more casual than Octavia’s cautious tip toeing. He waited for the footsteps to trail away before peering around the trunk. 

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He caught Octavia’s dark mahogany hair whipping around her as she jogged off, this time to the north where the border of Trishanakru and Trikru ran straight down the ridges where the mountains met and descended into the hillside surrounding Trikru territory. 

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There was no doubt about it, she was heading to the border. 

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Lincoln ran after her. 

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\- 

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They had entered the forest only a few minutes after they passed the metal fortress, and Lincoln was wary of the girl’s intentions. It made sense, for them to land in Trikru and trespass through the territory. A large number of their people presumably landed south, so it was strategic for them to meet up with them so there would be strength in numbers. But this girl headed north. To Trishanakru. 

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They were about half a day’s walk to the border and the sky had started to bleed red. The shadows in the wood made blending into his surroundings that much easier, but he didn’t dare let down his guard. Especially not around this girl. 

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Suddenly, Octavia stopped in her tracks. Lincoln immediately spun so that his back was to the tree, his fingers wrapped tightly around the handle of his sword. After a breath, he peered around the trunk and his eyes widened behind his helmet. 

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In the middle of the trees, the dark-haired girl raised her arms as plants began to glow around her. Her young face was cast in a violet and blue glow, that danced across her light eyes and cheeks. Octavia’s lips quirked up into a disbelieving smile, one that formed an ‘o’ of awe as luminescent butterflies flew down from the trees to flutter around her. 

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A laugh, joyful and full of amazement, escaped her. Lincoln faltered. She had a beautiful laugh. 

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Lincoln gazed at her as she lifted her hands up to greet the butterflies, standing still with a patient smile. They both waited in silence as after a moment, a butterfly flew down to land gently atop of her extended finger. Another flew down to sit atop of her head. The third one came to rest gently on the elbow of her raised arm. Then on the other. 

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Octavia walked around in a circle slowly until her back was to Lincoln once more, and she hummed as she gently raised her arms up and down, causing the butterflies to fly alongside her before landing once more. 

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Lincoln watched as the girl laughed happily with the butterflies and felt his resolve about the dangers of these strange people abate the longer the carefree moment lasted. 

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“I know you’re out there.” 

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Lincoln swung back behind the tree, his heart jumping in his chest. He readjusted his grip on his sword and cursed silently. He let his guard down. It took only a second, but it was enough that she made him. He waited for his heart to steady and clenched his jaw tight. He needed to rethink his next course of action. 

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“I know you can understand me.” 

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His head jerked in confusion. No, this girl was lying. She hadn’t laid eyes on him yet, he would have known if she saw him. This was a trick, to lure anyone who might be scouting her out into the open. That way it would be easier for her to see what she was facing and for her to plan what to do next. Flee or fight. He did not forget that she still had a knife on her. 

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“Don’t believe me?” the dark-haired girl echoed his thoughts, her voice strangely raspy as she demanded loudly, “ _Kom op au!"_ (Come out!) 

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Lincoln’s brows furrowed in concentration as Octavia turned, her eyes narrowed on the trees around them. Once again, her back was facing him. He saw a chance to test that daring, that confidence she wore in her muscles and he lifted his sword. 

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Shooting forward fast so that his boots could barely break the sticks underneath him, he had the sword raised at the same level as her neck. It was a show of intimidation, a means to put her in a position where she wouldn’t be able to put up a fight - at least, not without telling him all he needed to know. 

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But before the sword came to a stop just below her chin, Octavia whipped around - faster than he anticipated, faster than even **he** could move - and met his gaze behind his helmet. 

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When he came to a stop in front of her, his sword was positioned just over her shoulder. Her knife came to sit on the jaw of his helmet. 

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Octavia’s eyes flared with mirthful triumph as they bore into his own and her lips twitched with a barely restrained smile. Lincoln stilled. Instead of catching her in a position where he had the advantage, she had somehow thrown herself forward so that they were both at each other's throat. 

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Her confidence might be deserving after all. 

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The girl moved her knife higher so that it slipped below his helmet and met the point of his chin. Lincoln went rigid beneath it and Octavia smirked, “Take off your mask, _gona_.” 

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Octavia pressed the point of her knife into his chin in emphasis of her order. Lincoln’s jaw clenched. She had him right where she wanted him. He couldn’t move to attack her, not before she would strike him with her blade. Even if he could, she was his chance at finding out more about her and her people. And what their arrival could mean for him and his. 

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Slowly, so as not to provoke her into attacking him, he raised his hand to his helmet and pushed it up. His eyes didn’t stray from her eager face, her eyes trailed his helmet. He heard her breath shuddering as his chin, his mouth, his nose and finally his eyes were revealed to her. Curiously, the knife she held in a bone white hand shook from its place against his jaw. After a moment, she pulled back, her mouth dropping open in a silent gasp. 

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“It _is_ you,” she whispered in awe, her kaleidoscope eyes scouring, searching his. For what, he wasn’t sure and that put him on edge more than the unpredictable movement of the weapon in her hand. 

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_It is you? What does that mean?_

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Lincoln silent shook himself and focused. By stepping back, she gave him room to get himself out of the position they were in before. Lincoln lunged back, causing Octavia to flinch away herself, until they stood a meter apart, staring at each other in shock and confusion. 

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Lincoln raised his sword once more and demanded in a voice coming out in a low rasp, “Who are **you**?” 

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The girl stared at him in silence, her eyes wide and full of emotion. It was as if she were in a trance, lost in memorizing the features of his face like each line and edge was something she thought she would never see again. 

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Her light eyes had turned glassy the longer she stared, and Lincoln wondered what it was about him that made her feel so sad, so passionate that she would shed tears. He had never known someone like her in all his life, someone willing to risk a sword to the head to show her worth as well as someone who would shed a tear in the face of an enemy she only just met. 

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This girl had answers, not just to the questions his people wanted to ask but to questions Lincoln had started asking in the depths of his mind since he first saw her, and her companion escape the metal fortress that morning. 

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Questions she didn’t seem to be in any position to answer. Not with the silence she had taken in the face of seeing him without his helmet. 

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Lincoln pressed closer and repeated louder, “ **Who are you?** ” 

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Octavia stood strong, and while the glassiness in her eyes remained, the sadness faded and was replaced with a carefully blank look as she replied almost instinctively, " _Ai laik Oktevia kom Skai - Skairaizkru. Osir kom op in ogonzaun."_ (I am Octavia from the Sky - the Sky Rebel People. We come in peace).” 

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_Raiza?_ She was a rebel, a resistor of her people? 

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That explained why her and her companion had escaped the metal object they landed in earlier that morning. Why they had fought with those uniformed men. They were probably her people’s warriors, people who fought on behalf of their leaders. The question was why was Octavia and her companion fighting against them? 

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But that could wait. He needed to know what else Octavia and her people knew of the Clan’s their ways. Especially how she came to know their language. 

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Lincoln frowned, “How do you know _Trigedasleng_?” 

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That sadness flickered again behind Octavia’s eyes, but she held his stare as she replied, “I was taught it. By someone I loved. _Still_ love.” 

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There was a forcefulness behind her words, something about the way she stared at him as she said those words. Like it was a message he was supposed to know. Like it meant something, not just to her but to him as well. 

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She was supposed to be giving him answers, not creating more questions. 

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Lincoln shook his head, and his frustration grew as he growled, “How do _your people_ know it?” 

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“My people?" Octavia frowned, momentarily confused before realization struck her and she tilted her head curiously as she asked, “How long have you been following me?” 

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“Since you landed.” 

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Her lips twitched and a certain softness took her face as she murmured, more to herself than to him, “I told Bellamy you were the one who blew the horn.” 

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_Bellamy? Her companion?_

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“How did you know?” Lincoln prompted, elaborating when she raised her brows in question, “About the horn, I mean.” 

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Something dark, full of pain flickered behind her eyes as she muttered bitterly, “Experience.” 

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Lincoln frowned. He did not expect that. How did people who hailed from the sky suffer from the fog? 

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Lincoln began circling her, his hands readjusting the grip on the hilt of his sword by his side. Octavia’s eyes followed him but not her feet and he tilted his head at her lack of movement. 

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“Where did you come from?” he asked, studying her body, looking for her strengths, her weaknesses, her blind spot. Something that would explain why she had the arrogance to let him circle her so obviously. 

__

__

__

A flash of mischief – no, playfulness – flickered behind her kaleidoscope eyes as she murmured thoughtfully, “I thought you said you saw us land?” 

__

__

__

“From the sky. I don’t see how Skaikru would know our language.” 

__

__

__

“Most Skaikru wouldn’t,” Octavia admitted, her eyes lowered onto the sword in his hand before her eyes met his once more and she smiled faintly, “My people, Skairaizkru, however, are different.” 

__

__

__

“How?” Lincoln challenged, his attention focused on how her joints had loosened out of nowhere, like she was getting ready to use them again. 

__

__

__

He was behind her when he said it and she suddenly turned to face him. Her eyes were alight with determination now, a strength for him to hear her. 

__

__

__

“We’re not your enemy. _I’m_ not your enemy,” the girl stepped forward and his arm raised the sword pointedly, but she ignored it and lifted her chin as she went on to say, “My enemy is your enemy. _The Maunon_.” 

__

__

__

Lincoln’s sword wavered but his stance did not. Apprehension lingered on every muscle in his jaw as he bit out slowly, “How do you know about _the Maunon_?” 

__

__

__

That seemed to set her off. Octavia barked out a laugh, her eyes crinkling in amusement as she told him, “Once it was me asking the questions. Damn, how the times have changed.” 

__

__

__

Something about that must have been funny because another huff left her cheeks, a wry grin making its way onto her face as she told him, “Then again, I know a lot more than I did back then, _Linkon kom Trikru_.”

__

__

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few things I would like to address:  
> \- Anya and Lincoln are brother and sister in my fic and this interesting sub-plot was suggested by my Beta, Dev_301, and together we have collaborated to come up with more interesting plots, twists, characteristics and other little niche ideas for future chapters so be prepared.  
> Trigedasleng:  
> \- Gonakru, a unit of warriors equal to ten people.  
> \- The Maunon, the Trig word for the Mountain Men.  
> \- Raiza, rebel, resistor. I thought that since the delinquients were seperating from Skaikru to go off by themselves and lead themselves, they would need another name for their clan. Rebel was the most fitting name. The carving of the Skybox that Clarke carved on the side of the mountain at the end of Chapter 3 is their Clan symbol.


	11. Lincoln: Violent Butterflies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I can’t kill you,” Lincoln’s voice came out as a whisper, his lips curling upward as he shook his head, “I can’t kill you but I can’t let you go either.” 
> 
> “What? Lincoln, what – “ Octavia’s questions were cut off as he brought his sword down onto her knife, the impact causing it to fly from her hands. They both stared at where it landed on the ground, several feet from where they stood across from each other. 
> 
> Octavia slowly looked back up at him, her eyes narrowed on the raised sword in his hands and he saw the exact moment she chose to fight back. 
> 
> “So that’s how it’s going to be,” the girl murmured bitterly in a low, raspy voice, “So be it.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I know a lot of you were super eager for new chapters and while I've been taking time to myself to enjoy the holidays and enjoy the freedom of graduating high school, I felt super guilty that I haven't made much of an effort to write up new chapters for you all. So I know it's short, I was hoping to update it to correspond with the Octavia chapter that's coming up after this, but I thought, I'll give you guys a taste! Hope you enjoy and please don't be afraid to leave a comment!

#### PREVIOUSLY…..

_“We’re not your enemy. I’m not your enemy,” the girl stepped forward and his arm raised the sword pointedly, but she ignored it and lifted her chin as she went on to say, “My enemy is your enemy. The Maunon.”_

_Lincoln’s sword wavered but his stance did not. Apprehension lingered on every muscle in his jaw as he bit out slowly, “How do you know about the Maunon?”_

_That seemed to set her off. Octavia barked out a laugh, her eyes crinkling in amusement as she told him, “Once it was me asking the questions. Damn, how the times have changed.”_

_Something about that must have been funny because another huff left her cheeks, a wry grin making its way onto her face, “I know a lot more than I did back then, Linkon kom Trikru.”_

\- 

Lincoln froze, his hand stiff around his sword. 

She knew his name. She knew his name. 

How did she know his name? 

_No, the better question is, if she knows my name, who else’s name could she know?_

The Trikru warrior adjusted his stance and backed away from her, his teeth grinding together as he warred on what to do. 

_Kill her. Right here, right now_ , the voice of Indra, the chief of his clan, hissed in his ear, _If this girl knows the names of our warriors, then she most certainly knows the name of our Commander._

_If this girl knows our names, then what more could she possibly know? We can’t afford to waste away with the girl, she could reveal how she came across this knowledge. She tells us what she knows, we can strengthen our defenses and work towards a plan of attack _, Anya’s voice reasoned, her words ringing loud and strong inside his head.__

____

_Strike her down, boy_ , Indra’s voice roared, _There is no information worth the risk of our Commander’s safety._

____

_She would disagree with that_ , Anya’s voice insisted calmly, _The safety and the unity of the Congeda comes first. The Commander would agree that information from the enemy is more valuable than her life._

____

_If your decision kills the Commander, it would give me a reason to banish you from Trikru once and for all_ , Indra’s voice spat triumphantly, _Go ahead and spare her. Let your weakness rule you and see it be the ruin of our Commander, of the Congeda._

____

_Or see it be the bridge to peace_ , Anya’s voice spoke up determinedly, _As our Commander strives for. Peace, what she fought so hard to achieve, sacrificed so much to achieve. You know it as much I do, Linkon, that we need this girl. **She** needs this girl. Alive._

____

“Lincoln?” Octavia frowned from in front of him, her eyes darting from the shaking sword in his hand to his face, pulled taunt in conflict, “Lincoln, what’s wrong?” 

____

“I can’t kill you,” Lincoln’s voice came out as a whisper, his lips curling upward as he shook his head, “I can’t kill you but I can’t let you go either.” 

____

“What? Lincoln, what – “ Octavia’s questions were cut off as he brought his sword down onto her knife, the impact causing it to fly from her hands. They both stared at where it landed on the ground, several feet from where they stood across from each other. 

____

Octavia slowly looked back up at him, her eyes narrowed on the raised sword in his hands and he saw the exact moment she chose to fight back. 

____

“So that’s how it’s going to be,” the girl murmured bitterly in a low, raspy voice, “So be it.” 

____

Before he could blink, Octavia kicked out against his chest and sent him stumbling back in shock. Taking advantage of his distraction, she made a run for her discarded knife. Lincoln ran forward after her, managing to catch her upper arm just before she crouched down to pick her weapon up. 

____

Octavia threw her elbow up, catching him on the chin but he did not let go. Lincoln gritted his teeth as pain flooded through his jaw, and he growled, “ _Stop fighting!_ " 

____

“No can do,” Octavia grunted, shaking her head before twisting around and sending a punch to his face, her knuckles brushing agonizingly against his cheek. Lincoln’s head whipped to the side and he gaped at the force behind the strike before she did it again, this time sending him stumbling back. 

____

He let go off her arm and she took the opportunity to snatch the knife up from the ground. Seeing the weapon glinting out of the corner of his eye, Lincoln quickly got into a defensive stance while Octavia flipped her knife in her hand. The girl began to pace in front of him, careful not to show him her back. When she saw that he had recovered from his surprise, she got into her own stance. 

____

Holding the knife in a reverse grip that was levelled in front of her chest, she raised the other fist in a more offensive position in front of her body and jutted her chin in challenge. 

____

Lincoln grunted back, “We don’t have to fight. If you come with me in peace, like you claim, I promise that I will ask for leniency on your behalf.” 

Octavia tilted her head, her lips twitching into a smirk as she drawled, “Yeah? Should have thought about that before you disarmed me. There is no peace without trust.” 

____

“Trust is earnt,” Lincoln countered as he stepped forward, jutting out his sword as he pointed out, “You have done nothing but earn my suspicion.” 

____

“I’ve given you my name, the name of my clan. I had my blade to your neck and yet I didn’t use it. Doesn’t that earn me some merit?” 

____

The Trikru warrior frowned at her, his steps faltering slightly. Octavia’s eyes flickered to his boots then back up to his face, her kaleidoscope gaze glittering knowingly. 

____

“You might have revealed yourself,” Lincoln began roughly, “But you also revealed how much you know about my people. That makes you a threat.” 

____

“Yeah, it wouldn’t be the first time,” Octavia scoffed to herself, blowing a strand of mahogany brown hair out of her eye so that she could level him with a stony look as she muttered, “But I’m not one to go down without a fight.” 

____

Lincoln’s brows dropped in disappointment and he pulled back to stand side along. He slid his sword into the sheath at his back and sighed, “So be it. But it will not be to the death.” 

____

“If it is not to the death, how will we determine the fate of the other?” Octavia questioned with a slight curl to her lips, not bothering to lower her blade until she had her answer. 

____

She seemed amused, almost playful in her question and Lincoln cocked his head to the side as he was once again puzzled by this strange and dangerous girl. 

____

“If you manage to defeat me, I will let you walk free. If I manage to defeat you, you will come with me to my village and stand before my people,” Lincoln explained, his gaze lowering to the weapon in her hand with a nod, “Your blade will determine our fate.” 

____

Octavia glanced down at the knife in her hand with a raised brow before clarifying, “Whoever sees a killing strike with this blade will determine the fate of the other?” 

____

"Yes.” 

____

The girl hummed, running her eyes up and down his body in what would have come across as an appraising manner if it weren’t for the silent strategizing behind her gaze. She was looking for weaknesses, signs of past wounds or chinks in his armour that would aid her in this battle. 

____

After a long moment, Octavia nodded her agreement and declared, “I accept.” 

____

Lincoln nodded and readjusted his stance, inclining his head that he was ready. Octavia smirked back at him before running forward and making her first move, striking out at his neck with the knife and trying to curl her arm around his shoulders to get a hold on him. 

____

He saw all her moves in that one curve of her body and slid out from underneath the knife, bringing his armoured bicep to block her when she tried to send a punch to his head again. 

____

He had felt what those seemingly delicate knuckles could do and he was not looking forward to feeling them again. Her body might be small and slight but she knew how and where to hit an opponent in order to weaken their bearings. 

____

Octavia jumped back and flipped the knife in the air, causing his gaze to go to it for only a second, a second that the girl used to twist her body around and send another high kick to his upper torso, the tips of her boot kissing his chin roughly before he stumbled back. 

____

Like a bird of prey, Octavia didn’t let him recover and had quickly kicked out at his shins, the bone armor biting into them from the impact. She had maneuvered herself so that she was behind him and attempted to repeat the move behind him. When he didn’t budge, she sent an elbow into his back, once, then twice more until his body instinctively arched back. 

____

Still, Lincoln stood and Octavia must have realized he was on the verge of fighting back because she made her most daring move. Grabbing onto his shoulders, she jumped onto his back. 

____

Her skinny knees dug into a weak spot between his shoulder blades and he grunted, wrapping his hand around the wrist with the knife and wrapping his other hand into the collar of her jacket. Lincoln ruthlessly threw her over his shoulder using his hold on her jacket, causing her to let go of her knife so that she could soften her landing on the hard ground. 

____

Lincoln snatched out at the air to grab the knife before it fell alongside her and stepped back, not wanting to be caught by surprise by another one of her kick outs. He noticed during their spar that she was quite flexible with her movements and like most female warriors, instinctively struck out at him with her legs. 

____

She was quick too, quicker than most and knew that timing was most important in attaining victory. For a people that seemed ill equipped in the ways of warfare as he knew it, Lincoln could tell that Octavia was skilled and dare he say, training in the art of combat, both with weapons and with her bare hands. 

____

From the ground, Octavia spat out the mouthful of leaves from her fall and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, “I remember you being much gentler,” but like every other vague or cryptic thing that came out of her mouth, Lincoln shook it off as something to think about later, when his duty and responsibility to his people was not at stake. 

____

Lincoln watched as she pushed herself off the ground, holding all her weight up on one arm while she wiped the dirt off her mouth with the other. A churning feeling swam in the gut of his stomach at the sight of her on the ground like that, and he couldn’t help but think that it was wrong in some way. 

____

She was strong, Octavia was. So fierce and fast and quick-witted. 

____

While her mutterings were confusing and caused more apprehension than most of what she revealed, she was right when pointed out how callous he was with handling her. He had fought Reapers with more grace and skill than he had her and for some reason, even though she was his foe in this fight, the thought caused him more shame than he cared to admit out loud. 

____

Octavia, despite her remark, shook off his take down of her with an expert ease, almost as if she was used to being knocked down with such, or even more, brutality. Casting a calculated glance over her shoulder, she seemed to consider the distance between himself and her and found that while he was leaning back to protect his torso from one of her high kicks, he had neglected his legs. 

____

He regretted it as soon as he saw the muscles in her upper arms tense up but he couldn’t help but marvel at the strength this girl displayed as she held all her weight up so that she could execute a series of strong kicks to the side of his legs. 

____

The attack, while surprising, also brought to his attention the damage her earlier kicks had done to his shins as pain flared up his legs. Lincoln’s eyes widened in shock as they buckled under him and it was as if time slowed down his decent to the ground before it sped up a few seconds later. 

____

In a blink, he was on his back, with Octavia leaning over him, straddling his lower torso so that it made it a bit more difficult for him to sit up, at least, more difficult than if she were to have positioned herself on his waist – 

____

Lincoln gritted his teeth and released a snarl, moving to bring the dagger still clutched in his right hand to her neck. If he could just grab a hold of her neck, he could pull her off him enough that he could get up. Then he could roll over and pin her down, finishing the battle once and for all with the blade at her neck. 

____

An unarguable win in his favor. 

____

However, before the dagger could even breathe near her exposed throat, Octavia grabbed the blade between both her hands, not blinking a lash when the metal bit into her palms. Red dripped between her enclosed hands, wetting the handle of the blade and the fist that wielded it. Lincoln gaped up at her as she gritted her teeth and with all the strength she possessed, began to twist the blade in his grip. 

____

A small gasp escaped her as the blade twisted in between her palms, both aggravating the initial wound and slicing up her hands to create new ones. Lincoln flinched under her at the sound, shocked into moving at the realization that she was in pain, that she was causing herself pain to win this battle, and tried to buck her off of him with his hips. 

____

Octavia growled at the sudden movement but kept at twisting the blade, moving it so that the edges of the blade sat directly across her palms. Now that the flat of the blade was facing up, Octavia began to force it down onto the man withering below her. 

____

Lincoln saw his aggravated reflection in the surface of the dagger baring down at him and grew desperate, trying to lunge up so that he might get enough momentum to get his back off the dirt and hopefully throw her off in the process. 

____

It seemed that Octavia had other plans. Pressing down on him with her whole body, with their hands their only weapons in this struggle for the dagger, Octavia brought her face up close to his and whispered tauntingly, “I wonder how Luna would feel seeing you fight so violently, _Linkon_.” 

____

Lincoln faltered. 

____

_That’s not possible -_

____

His fingers loosened from around the dagger. 

____

_She couldn’t – no –_

____

The blade slipped from between his finger tips as he gasped up at her, his entire body coming to a standstill in the wake of her whisper. 

____

_How does she know about Luna?_

____

Octavia’s hands slid down the weapon he had freed until they wrapped around the grip of the dagger and with dark eyes and a wretched cry, she brought the blade down into the shoulder of the Trikru warrior beneath her.

____


	12. Octavia Blake: The Girl With Many Names

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’ll go with you to TonDC,” she told him softly, “I want peace. I’m tired of fighting. I’m tired of the violence and the bloodshed and the killing. And if going to your village will be the way to peace, then I’ll go. In chains, if need be. But I’ll go.”
> 
> The Trikru warrior searched her eyes for anything that might reveal ulterior motives, that might reveal lies, that might reveal something other than the genuine plead of someone who just wanted to live. But all he saw was a desperate sincerity of someone who spoke the truth.
> 
> His face was hard, unyielding of any weakness as he nodded. Keeping his eyes on her, he moved to retrieve the chain and manacles from behind him. 
> 
> Octavia followed him closely, and when he turned to tell her to hold out her hands, she walked into them willingly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! It's the long chapter that I've been promising you since, like, last year so here it is! I just want to thank my Beta, Dev_30, for putting up with my on again off again writer's block and continuous support. She has motivated me so much and taken time out of her schedule to consult with me about the direction of this fic. She, like the rest of you, are so invested in this fic and I just want to say thank you to both her and all of you for your support. I would also like to give her credits for coming up with some of the ideas for this fic, including the Reaper scene in this chapter.  
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy it and I'm eager to hear what you guys thought!

#### PRESENT

 _Under the forest floor, in a cave lit by a crackling fire illuminating the loose pages filled with sketches of things of marvel, was a girl trapped in manacles that hung with a familiar weight on her wrists. Her long, dark brown hair was streaked in blood, dripping down her head while an eerie feeling brought her back to a time that she wanted to cast out of her mind for good._

_Despite the wound, she remained upright, squaring off her shoulders as she stared down the person across the room as if he were a spirit that would flicker away if she took her eyes off of him for even a moment. Her mouth hung ajar in a half smile, half gasp and it was that expression on her lips that made the person across the room that much more wary of the girl they had caught as she let out a breathy, little laugh of what sounded like amazement, her eyes finally leaving them to flicker around the room before landing on him once more._

\- 

“Looks like some things never change,” Octavia Blake sighed with a wry smirk that hid the pained wince that trembled on her lips as the ache in her head throbbed once more, a reminder of how she had gotten herself into this situation in the first place. 

Her hands attempted to lower themselves to her head to massage away the migraine that she had abruptly woken up with but the rusted manacles around them pulled at the chains that secured them to the cave wall above her head, another reminder of the position she had found herself in. 

Shooting a dry look at the chains that jangled above her, she glanced at the Trikru warrior across the cave from her and let out another sigh. 

_Once again, another reminder of the situation you got yourself into_ , a voice hissed inside her head. 

Lincoln leaned against the wall in the corner of the cave, his arms crossed over his chest as he stared her down, his face doing well not to betray the injury she caused him before he had knocked her out. 

Her eyes drifted to his shoulder where the bone white of his armor was splattered with a dark red stain and the tunic underneath glistened in the dull firelight. It looked as if it was soaked all the way through and was dripping down the cloth. 

Her own forehead was bleeding heavily, and her left eye was surrounded by a hauntingly red tint that made her swallow hard as she gazed at the wound she dealt with it. 

_It was a fight to get the knife in your possession, to hold it to him, not stick it in him_ , a small part of her roared in outrage, _You could have killed him! You could have killed our houmon mere hours after finding out he was alive again!_

_Exactly_ , another part of her purred in satisfaction, darker and painfully familiar, _It seems that Blodreina is not as gone as you once believed. Looks like you will always be covered in blood._

_No_ , she insisted to herself, her wrists unwittingly tugging against the chains above her, _She’s gone. I may always be a killer, but I will never be her. This was an accident. I wouldn’t hurt him on purpose._

_Would it matter? Purpose or accident, in the end, you always hurt the ones you love _, the dark voice trailed away, leaving the echo of its words in its wake to settle in the crevices of her mind to haunt her later.__

____

Octavia shook her head, her mahogany hair slapping her shoulders, slick with blood. It sent shivers up her spine, the feeling of it sliding against her Sky Box issued jumpsuit. Like two eras of herself coming together in a collision of chaos and pain. 

____

“I’m sorry,” Octavia gasped out, causing the man leaning against the wall across from her to flinch, “I’m sorry, for the wound I caused you. We agreed to a bloodless fight and I spilt first blood.” 

____

Lincoln leaned back, seemingly shocked to see an enemy apologizing for dealing a strike and shook his head, “I understand that it was a fight, and it is expected that blood will be shed. You saw the killing strike and that’s what matters.” 

____

“I should be the one to apologize,” he admitted, his shoulders sinking in guilt as he revealed, “We agreed that the first to see the killing strike would determine the fate of the other. I breached the rules of our fight by using your hesitation to render you unconscious. I am sorry for the wound I caused you.” 

____

Octavia opened her mouth to argue about the hesitation remark – she didn’t hesitate, she froze because she genuinely thought she had killed him – but she closed it. 

____

He was right. Hesitated, froze - it didn’t matter because on that forest floor, when her voices were screaming silently in disgust and shock at her almost killing of the man she loved, she dropped her guard. He saw an opportunity to end the fight and he took it. 

____

She was just thankful that she had kept enough of her mind to land the strike in his shoulder rather than his heart. She didn’t even want to think of what she would have done if she had actually killed him, killed _Lincoln_. 

____

Blinking back angry tears at the thought, Octavia shook her head, wincing as she said, “You saw an opening and you took it. I didn’t hold the killing strike and I lost because of it. I guess this means that I will be going to your village after all, _Linkon kom Trikru_.” 

____

Lincoln tilted his head, his dark eyes searching as he walked towards her until he was standing only a few feet away, “Not yet. I need to ask you some questions first. And you will answer them, either here or at my village.” 

____

Octavia jutted out her chin, trying to fight the urge to rear back at the blood that saturated through the fabric of the tunic. He was closer now, so close that she could smell the blood oozing from the wound. She swallowed back the bile that crawled up her throat and nodded. 

____

“What do you want to know?” 

____

“What do _you_ know?” 

____

Octavia blinked at him. 

____

“You’re going to have to be more specific, _gona_ ,” she scoffed, rolling her shoulders to relieve the ache that was building up in her muscles. 

____

“What do you know of my people?” 

____

Octavia sighed, drawling lazily, “I know that they’re fighting a war they can’t win. The _Maunon_ , you can’t beat them.” 

____

“How do you know of the _Maunon_?” Lincoln gritted his teeth, his brows furrowed deeply over his eyes as he pointed out, “You said you just landed.” 

____

“I didn’t say that.” 

____

“I saw it. With my own eyes, I saw you and the man you were with earlier escape the metal fortress – “ 

____

“The dropship,” Octavia corrected, her head tilted as she stared up at him thoughtfully, “How many?” 

____

Lincoln leaned back, “What?” 

____

“How many?” she repeated, thinking back to the mix of adults and young people on the dropship she came down with and how she thought it would be strange that they would send a seemingly random group of people down to earth first, “Dropships, how many did you see come down?” 

____

The Trikru warrior before her shook his head in frustration, “Why?” 

____

“If you want answers, I need answers,” Octavia told him dismissively. 

____

Lincoln narrowed his eyes at her in suspicion before revealing, ““I witnessed seven to eight of what you call dropships. I also saw much larger objects come down. At least five.” 

____

_So, I was right_ , Octavia thought to herself, blinking down at her boots in surprise. 

____

The entire Ark had come down. Before, they had sent the hundred down to test the radiation, and when that failed to bring up satisfying results – mostly thanks to Bell and his militia – Abby Griffin had taken matters into her own hands and sent Raven down. However, despite Raven successfully fixing the radio to tell the adults they were all alive, it had taken over a month for the Ark to fall and as far as Octavia knew, that was more an act of desperation rather than a planned event. 

____

Before, the rest of the dropships had been destroyed by the explosion that occurred on Unity Day. Now, all of them had been deployed with at least a hundred people inside them all. She now knew that the hundred had been separated into those dropships, with her, Jasper and Murphy’s group taking up three of them. However, Lincoln had also said there were some that were bigger than the rest. 

____

_He could only be talking about the stations_ , Octavia reasoned, nodding along. When Jaha had brought the Ark down last time, the stations had separated themselves. Some were destroyed in the entry and some on impact but at least three of them survived nearly entirely intact. If those odds occurred after significant damage had been done to the Ark, then surely more stations would stand a chance of surviving with what must have been a planned re-entry. 

____

_With thinking like that, Raven might able to forgive you for the shit you pulled_ , the dark, bitter voice drawled in amusement. Octavia’s lips twitched. 

____

“Why do you ask?” Lincoln spoke up. Octavia’s head snapped up, her eyes meeting his. 

____

“What?” 

____

“Shouldn’t you already know? Did you not know your people planned this invasion?” 

____

Didn’t that sound familiar? If Diyoza were here, she would point out the irony of this situation. An irony that almost every single person seemed to get but her at the time. Then again, she had almost lost all sight in the darkness of the bunker and at the sight of Eden, she had forgotten her own history. She had forgotten what it was like, to be the first girl on the ground in over a hundred years. 

____

Octavia gave him a wry smile before standing up straight, ignoring how her legs began tingling as pins and needles erupted along her muscles. 

____

“Firstly, those people that I landed with have no idea that the Clans exist,” she told him honestly, deciding that would be the best way for this conversation to go, “On the Ark, the place where I come from, we were taught from childhood that after the first bombs, the remnants of the human race united together and survived by seeking sanctuary in space.” 

____

“Bombs?” 

____

“ _Praimfaya_ ,” Octavia corrected, watching as Lincoln’s face tightened in understanding, “The Ark is a huge metal fortress where my people lived for almost a hundred years. During those hundred years, we were told that we were the last of the human race and that the earth was uninhabitable.” 

____

“If your people thought that the earth was uninhabitable, why did they come down now?” Lincoln questioned, his voice softening in curiosity. 

____

Octavia shook her head, “I don’t know.” 

____

“You’re lying.” 

____

Her eyes flared at the insinuation, “I don’t know. Neither do my people.” 

____

Lincoln frowned, “I don’t understand. I thought those people you came down with _were_ your people.” 

____

Octavia scoffed, “ _Those people_ were the reason I had to hide under a floor for most of my life. Those people were the reason me and the rest of _my_ people were put in chains and left to rot in cells until we came of age.” 

____

“You were _honon_? Prisoners?” 

____

She nodded. 

____

Lincoln’s mouth tightened before he asked, “What crime did you commit against your people?” 

____

Octavia’s lips pulled up into a humorless smile, like she had heard the question many times before and the answer had long since stopped causing pain and had started to root itself as an eternal joke to her. 

____

“The crime of being born.” 

____

\- 

____

“I don’t understand.” 

____

The girl in chains sighed against the wall, and she took a deep breath before repeating the story she had told many times throughout her life. 

____

“On the Ark, in order to make sure there is enough air for everyone to live off of, a law was put into place that families may only bore one child. My brother, Bellamy, was born seven years earlier, although we have different fathers.” 

____

Octavia’s eyes flickered up to meet Lincoln’s. 

____

“You see, on the Ark, every crime no matter how small is punishable by death. Having a second child is not a small thing. In fact, it’s probably up there with treason.” 

____

“To have two children?” Lincoln repeated incredulously, his brows furrowed deeply over his eyes, “Having another child is a crime punishable by death?” 

____

“As is being the said child,” Octavia nodded grimly, “In order to keep us all alive, my mother hid me under the floor for sixteen years. One night, about a year ago, there was a celebration of what we call Unity Day. It was a masked party and my brother thought that he might be able to take me without me being seen.” 

____

Octavia remembered the thrill that had ran up her spine when her brother whipped into the room, a sly smirk on his face as he hid something behind his back. Back then, easy smiles came easy and Bellamy’s eyes were still soft and full of hope. Hope that his little sister might one day experience what it was like to be normal, to not be some crime hidden under the floor every time another person even breathed past their front door. 

____

Back then, she had clung to those smiles like they were a lifeline, and she remembered the way her heart jumped as he revealed the mask to her. Looking back now, it was quite a gaudy thing and harshly made like it had been put together in a hurry. But sixteen-year-old Octavia had slipped it over her eyes and thought that she was one of those princesses from Bellamy’s stories. When Bellamy extended his hand and led her to the door, her heart had leaped out of her chest because finally, finally she would see outside the walls she hadn’t left since she was bought into the world. 

____

She remembered the way those cool grey walls were lit up in the silvery light of the moon the station passed in orbit and how it felt so big compared to the little room she grew up in. Octavia had been quite content to stand there staring out at infinite space when the heavy beat of music reached her ears. 

____

Seeing people other than her mother and brother was probably the strangest feeling she had ever experienced. Of course, she had gotten peaks from between the floorboards of their room but having a bunch of people so close, thriving, and writhing to the music sent goosebumps up her arms and back. 

____

She remembered spinning around like a goofball, dancing in the middle of the crowd like she belonged there, like these were _her_ people, like this was _normal_ for her. She had still been wearing that feeling when the lights turned back on and the music cut out abruptly as men in black, imposing uniforms arrived, the same kind her brother wore from his position against the wall. 

____

Despite never seeing another one of them face to face before, she knew who they were. They were the sweat that dotted her brother’s forehead after a routine room inspection. They were the hard glint in her mother’s eyes as she left their room late in the night and didn’t return until early the next morning. They were the nightmares whispered into her ear since she was old enough to understand what fear was, and why it coated her mother and brother’s tone like a hot, sticky tar. 

____

They were the Ark guardsmen and the people responsible for locking up people like her. **Criminals**. 

____

She told Lincoln that, her shoulder’s sinking at the long forgotten memory. 

____

“I was caught and thrown into the Skybox, where me and the rest of my people were sent for the crimes we committed. My mother was executed. My brother lost everything all in one day.” 

____

Lincoln hadn’t moved from his position in front of her. His arms were crossed over his chest, causing blood to seep from the knife wound in his shoulder and down his forearms, wetting the tunic under his armor. Octavia frowned at the wound again and wondered why he didn’t put something on it. Surely, he would have taken care of it after he had chained her up. 

____

“There is one thing I don’t understand about your story,” Lincoln spoke up, his voice low and confused, “If every crime committed on your…Ark…is punishable by death, why are you still alive.” 

____

Octavia let out a humorless snort, “In an effort to remain _fair_ , the leaders of the Ark put a law that anyone below the age of eighteen was exempt from execution. Instead, we would be thrown into the Skybox and kept there until we came of age. As they tell us, once we reached eighteen, our crimes would be reviewed, and the leaders would decide if we would rejoin the rest of the Ark or if we would be executed.” 

____

“The people who were with you, the ones that came out of the cave – “ 

____

“The people who were with me were _my_ people. Prisoners.” 

____

“Children.” 

____

“Yes.” 

____

Lincoln leaned back at her blunt tone. Octavia searched her former lover’s eyes as he tried to put the pieces together. To come up with an answer to all of his questions or to come up with more questions to ask her, she didn’t know. But she saw the way his jaw clenched and knew that she was not making his job easy for him. 

____

Her eyes softened around the edges, in such a way that had become foreign to her in recent years but they did so with such ease in the face of him. 

____

“Look,” she sighed, rattling the manacles around her wrist, “The whole children-prisoners thing isn’t important. You want to know if we’re a threat? The answer is no. You want to know what we want? The answer is peace. You want to know what we have to offer?” 

____

Lincoln straightened up, his dark eyes widening at the prospect. Octavia bit back the grin that threatened to form on her lips and shrugged nonchalantly, her eyes flickering up to the chain in the wall and back down to meet his own gaze. 

____

“Let me out of these and I’ll tell you anything you want, _gona_.” 

____

\- 

____

The Trikru warrior had turned away from her to consider her proposition before leaving her to think it over, his heavy footsteps fading off as he left the cave system, he called home. That had been a little while ago, and her shoulders had begun to burn from the uncomfortable position she was in. 

____

Octavia didn’t know how long she had been knocked out for, but it had to be at least two hours if he carried her all the way down the mountain. It had to be well past nightfall and that meant her brother should have gotten their people to the bunker by now. With any luck, they would have met up with Clarke and started planning on how to make peace with the Clans. 

____

She stared at the manacles around her wrist and scoffed. 

____

Unfortunately for her, she seemed pretty down on luck at the moment. She let herself get carried away in him, the joy of having him back. When he had jumped down behind her on top of the mountain, she had to fight back the urge to run into his arms. It had been too damn long since she had seen his face, since she had heard his voice. It had haunted her in her dreams but those soon faded along with the rest of him, down in the dark bunker she had been sealed in for six years. 

____

But then she fought in her self-declared War for the Valley and she went down, and realized how far she had fallen from the girl Lincoln had fallen in love with. Sanctum was a wake up call for everything that she had become. 

____

A monster. A bloody, ghoulish monster that bled herself dry, that ate her own people and who made them fight each other like savages, as if the ancient times her brother told her about were born anew. It had taken being shunned by her own brother, being shunned by everybody that she had loved, to realize it. It took looking Diyoza in the eye after the woman saved her ass to realize that scales had grown under her skin. 

____

_Two serpents_ , Diyoza’s voice drawled in the crevices of her dark mind. 

____

Octavia smirked darkly to herself as she thought silently, _One garden._

____

It was in those moments of self realization that Octavia was kind of thankful her love didn’t live to see what she might have become. Lincoln would have stood by Bellamy and the rest of them when they turned on her. 

____

_No_ , she corrected hastily, feeling salty tears burn at the corners of her eyes, _if Lincoln lived, there wouldn’t have been a serpent in the first place._

____

But he was here now. Somewhere on the ground above, under the shadowy trees, probably with his sore back against the hard bunk of the trunk with his curious mind going over everything she had told him. And everything she could tell him. 

____

He was a man that sought after peace, her Lincoln was. 

____

_No_ , Octavia shook her head dejectedly, _he’s not mine. Not right now. But deep down, he’s the same man._

____

He wants peace. 

____

Looking down at the rusted manacles rubbing dangerously against her skin, Octavia realized that, unlike her brother and Clarke, she was in a position to give Lincoln what he wanted and find a way to get her people what they needed. 

____

All she had to do was get to TonDC. 

____

And she had just the way to get there. 

____

Heavy footfalls echoed through the cave system once more and Octavia perked up, searching around the room for the tools to enact her plan. Her eyes landed on Lincoln’s sword, leaning against the opposite end of the cave, just resting next to the entrance. 

____

Now, Octavia wouldn’t claim to be a strategist like Raven or as resourceful as Clarke but when it came to swords, she was one with and one all. 

____

A shadow passed through the mouth as the Trikru warrior entered the room, his large frame sending shivers up her spine as he made his way over to the fire with arms full of chopped wood. 

____

Lincoln took his time, crouching down and placing the chopped wood on the firepit before brushing off the soot onto his trousers. When he got to his feet once more, Octavia thought he might be ignoring her and decided that she needed to act quick and to speak up. 

____

“I need to go to – “ she rasped out, throat sore from disuse, “I need to relieve myself.” 

____

Lincoln tilted his head, his brows furrowed as he asked, “What did you say?” 

____

Cheeks reddening slightly, Octavia cleared her throat and repeated louder, “I need to _relieve_ myself.” 

____

His eyes narrowed on the taunt lines of her face, taking in her clenched jaw and the way her cheeks began to redden and he raised a brow. 

____

Octavia huffed, knowing full well he didn’t believe her. He was right to, of course, but if she needed him to work _with_ her rather than against her, she had to get out of these chains and show him why. 

____

Squeezing her thighs together, the girl in the manacles gritted her teeth and averted her eyes. 

____

“Look, I know that you don’t trust me but what reason would I have to run away? I walked all the way up that mountain knowing full well you were following me. I could have ran back to the rest of my people at any time but I didn’t.” 

____

“That was before I captured you.” 

____

“Maybe I wanted to be captured, did you think about that?” Octavia shot back. 

____

Lincoln’s brows furrowed at the thought and he straightened up, turning around completely so that he was facing her. 

____

“Why would you want to do that?” 

____

“Like I told you before. My people and I want peace. Going to TonDC with you seems to be the way to do it,” Octavia explained hastily, bouncing on the soles of her feet. 

____

When Lincoln made no move to release her, Octavia growled, “If necessary, I’ll relieve myself right here on the floor.” 

____

Lincoln raised a brow, as if silently daring her to do it. 

____

Octavia’s lips twitched and she averted her eyes as if she were embarrassed before stiffening her spine. Closing her eyes, she forced a grimace as if what she was going to do next was something truly undignifying. 

____

“ **Stop.** ” 

____

His voice was low, almost regretful as he spoke up. Octavia’s eyes flew open hopefully, watching him as he made his way towards her. He stopped in front of her, considering the manacles clamped around her wrist thoughtfully before looking at her. 

____

Her breath hitched. The fire had been fed and had doused the whole cave in warm, orange light that flickered over the Trikru warrior like tendrils of the sun, stroking down his soft brown skin lovingly. His face was caked in dirt and sweat that shone on his forehead and cheeks, but Octavia had never seen someone so handsome in her entire life. 

____

His dark eyes, so kind, so searching as they looked back into hers. It had been dark before, so very dark. She had forgotten what kind eyes Lincoln had when he wasn’t fighting for his life. 

____

Lincoln leaned down, bringing his face close to hers. Octavia pressed her fingers into her manacles, clutching them as his warm breath ghosted across her lips. She didn’t dare look away from him and all thoughts of going anywhere, or doing anything but being with him disappeared from her mind as those eyes of his flickered down to watch her trembling lip like it was something foreign to him. 

____

It had been forever since she had been this close to him and even his breath tasted like peace. 

____

“ _Please_ ,” she gasped out, her lips forming the word unwittingly. 

____

Lincoln’s eyes widened at the desperate plea. Octavia stared at him, equally shocked. 

____

She didn’t mean to say that out loud. 

____

Lincoln swallowed and looked away, moving back. Octavia’s shoulders slumped in defeat until she heard the rattling of keys. Lincoln withdrew them from his pocket and slid a rusted key into her manacles, jerking at them roughly as if he wanted them off quickly. 

____

Octavia sagged to the floor, her arms heavy and sore. Lincoln gingerly pulled her off the floor, his large hand encircling her upper arm as he murmured lowly, “Come on.” 

____

The brunette massaged her wrists, wincing slightly when the wounds on her hands and the raw skin on her wrists started stinging from the contact. 

____

Lincoln tugged her along, the hand on her upper arm tightening as they approached the mouth of the cave. Octavia glanced up at his face, but he was staring stoically ahead, his jaw clenched hard. It seemed that the Trikru warrior was determined to ignore whatever moment had passed between them. 

____

Better that, than him being extra attentive with his attention, she hummed to herself as they came up to the mouth of the cave where just out of her peripheral vision, Lincoln’s sword glinted in the firelight. 

____

“Lincoln?” she spoke up in a deceptively soft voice, her lashes low as she turned her head up at the Trikru warrior beside her. 

____

Lincoln grunted but didn’t look at her. Octavia smiled softly. 

____

“Thank you.” 

____

She lunged forward, her free hand reaching out and wrapping around the handle of the sword leaning against the wall closest to her. Lincoln tried to swing her back, but it was too late. Sword in hand, Octavia maneuvered herself so that she stood between Lincoln and the mouth of the cave. He still had one arm wrapped around her bicep but that meant nothing to her as she brought the blade up to settle against the bone plate of the armor covering his chest. 

____

Lincoln’s fingers dug into her arms warningly but Octavia merely lifted his sword so that it lay flat against under his chin. His eyes met hers, dark and furious and clouded with something akin to disappointment. Like he knew that this would happen and yet he let himself get trapped by her. 

____

He closed his eyes and waited for her to deal the finishing blow. 

____

“Sit down.” 

____

His eyes flew open. Octavia’s own kaleidoscope gaze was carefully blank as she stared up at him but there was no malice, no wrath, no iron will to see him dead in her beautiful features. 

____

Lincoln didn’t move. Octavia frowned. 

____

The blade of his sword moved closer until it kissed the spot under his chin. 

____

“ _Sit your ass down_ ,” she repeated slowly, leaning forward as her eyes flickered to his bloody shoulder, “If you plan to drag me all the way to your village, then we’re going to have to do something about that shoulder of yours.” 

____

Lincoln frowned, “My shoulder?” 

____

Octavia rolled her eyes, “Unless you plan on dropping dead from blood loss, then by all means. I know where it is, I’ll go there myself.” 

____

\- 

____

He hadn’t stopped staring at her. 

____

Octavia was concentrating hard on cleaning the wound, pouring what was left of the water from his waterskin onto a worn out piece of cloth and dabbing gingerly at his shoulder. Lincoln, of course, didn’t flinch at all. He just stared at her, those dark eyes of his watching her. 

____

She tried to remember everything Clarke had taught her about the way to properly stitch up a wound but found that some memories were harder to remember than most. She did remember the horrible scars that littered Indra’s back and thighs. About how they were bumpy and resembled an old blister that no longer threatened to pop. Evidence of the lack of healers Trikru had suffered during the reign of Sheidheda. 

____

Octavia grimaced silently and muttered a silent prayer under her breath that she wouldn’t leave an ugly scar on Lincoln and narrowed her eyes as she picked up the needle and thread. She held the needle over the fire, her brow twitching as the tips of the flames licked out at her fingers. 

____

When the heat got too close, she withdrew and focused on threading, sticking out her tongue in concentration. It was on her third try that she got the thread through the needle and she silently thanked her mother for ridding her of her shaking hands when she was younger. 

____

_A seamstress’ daughter can hardly help if her little mitts keep shaking every time she tries to thread a needle_ , Aurora Blake used to tell her with a teasing smile. 

____

Octavia turned to face the Trikru warrior once more and took a deep breath, keeping her eyes steadily on his wound and not on the rest of his torso. His chest was bare. Lincoln had rid himself of the heavy armor after seeing the determined look in her eye as she followed him with his own sword. When he dropped his leather jerkin to the ground, they both stared down at the bloody wound seeping through his tunic and winced at the way the cloth sank into the gaping hole. 

____

Octavia had gingerly fished the piece of cloth out of the bloody wound before using one of his knives to tear open the rest of the tunic. 

____

_"It’s all but ruined already"_ , she had muttered over her shoulder as she threw it into the fire, _"Besides, you’re bound to have more cloth around here."_

____

He merely grunted back at her but didn’t say anything to dissuade her. 

____

She had glimpsed his markings when he took off his tunic. It had been the first time she had laid eyes on the original tattoos since he – 

____

She swallowed hard. The markings had started to fade from memory during the second year in the bunker. She had long since shed the moniker of Skairipa to take up the mantle of Osleya, and had stopped wearing the markings that most had associated with Skairipa. Lincoln’s markings. 

____

In a moment of despair, as the walls of the bunkers started closing in, forcing her between a rock and a hard place, she had searched for those that she could trust. Paving the way for complete and utter loyalty to her, through any means necessary, she had her inner circle take on the remnants of the markings that were left in her head. 

____

But those too had all but disappeared by the time they found Sanctum. 

____

Now, they were right in front of her. He was right in front of her and it took her summoning the years of denying, of turning away, of turning cold to not reach out and trace those markings with her fingers, to touch him like she had once done so freely. 

____

But she was new to him. A stranger, all but an unknown and dangerous enemy. 

____

It would take a lot more than her word and haphazard stitching of his wounds for him to see her as anything more. 

____

Octavia had known a life without him though. It was a hard life. 

____

He was worth the effort of falling in love all over again. 

____

“Why?” 

____

Her fingers stopped. Blood had begun to welt up. She had only begun stitching the wound close, with only three stitches completed. 

____

She knew what he was asking. She felt like she was repeating the same old answers. 

____

She figured that sooner or later, he would start calling her out for her bullshit explanations. 

____

Octavia slowly tilted her head before resuming her work, grounding out in a raspy voice, “Why what?” 

____

“Why me?” Lincoln asked softly, making sure to keep still under her moving fingers, “You know a lot about the Clans, Octavia. Enough to know that I’m just a warrior, no one important. If you wanted a fast peace between our two peoples, you would have had a better chance approaching someone with real power. Yet you walked up that hill, went straight for the border knowing I would follow you.” 

____

She didn’t say anything, didn’t do anything to acknowledge that what he was saying had any merit. She just focused on not fucking up more than she had already. 

____

“And you didn’t just know that I was a warrior. You knew me by name.” 

____

Her fingers stilled for a second, barely a second before she continued. She kept her breath steady and tried to hide how her heart was moments away from beating out of her chest. 

____

“I know a lot of people by name,” Octavia shrugged nonchalantly, peering closer to get a better fixture on where to thread the needle through so that the stitches were at least semi-even. 

____

“But you didn’t just know my name,” Lincoln shook his head, moving his uninjured arm so that his hand rested on her shoulder. She paused so that she wouldn’t accidentally nudge him and looked him in the eye as he continued in a whisper, “You knew about Luna.” 

____

Octavia just stared at him blankly, forcing a mask to come across her face in order to conceal how much she was panicking right now. 

____

“ _Octavia_ ,” Lincoln whispered as a sharp, urgent edge formed in the wake of his words, “How do you know about Luna?” 

____

The brunette blinked up at him, grounding her teeth in frustration. At herself, for letting herself slip so much information. At him, for being so damn perceptive. At whatever force brought her and the others back with the memories of their past but spared Lincoln from them. 

____

She shook her head and focused back on her task, threading another stitch across his wound as she replied vaguely, “I know a lot of things. About a lot of people. All of my people do.” 

____

“The child prisoners?” Lincoln settled back slowly, fighting the urge to shake her. But at least she was revealing something, and patience was the key to victory. Or in this case, patience was the key in finding out more about _Oktevia kom Skairaizkru_. 

____

Octavia paused for a moment before nodding. She knew what he was up to. She knew that one of Lincoln’s greatest strengths was patience. She was always too reckless, too impulsive. She couldn’t wait to prove herself, to jump into the fray. Lincoln always managed to slow down, to take a moment to step back and see the bigger picture. To not take for granted what he had. 

____

Octavia used to be hungry for more. Lincoln had always been sated with what he was given. 

____

“How do you know the things you know?” 

____

“No one really knows,” Octavia told him truthfully. Her brows furrowed as she tried to think up an explanation that would be as close to the truth as possible, while still being in the realm of something that was understandable to those that had never left Earth in their life. It was fucking hard, considering that they couldn’t even understand it themselves. 

____

She let out a heavy sigh, taking a moment to thread another stitch. 

____

“In space, in the sky, there is something called the Anomaly. None of us really know what it is. The rest of our people don’t even know it exists. But my people, those who were in the Skybox with me – we went into this Anomaly. After that, we don’t remember what happened but we woke up in the dropships. We woke up on earth.” 

____

“What did this Anomaly do to you?” Lincoln questioned quietly, sounding skeptical and rightfully so. 

____

Her younger self cringed at the words coming out of her mouth as she struggled to explain, “It made us see things. Things that we had never seen before. Things about the ground and the people that lived there.” 

____

She glanced up at him, averting her eyes to stare at his shoulder as she sat back on her haunches. 

____

“It made us see the Clans. We heard your people speak their language, their names. We saw their homes, their land. The _Maunon_.” 

____

Octavia’s kaleidoscope eyes hardened at the name of the Mountain Men, remembering Lincoln’s blood shot eyes and his beastly snarls as they died on his lips. The way his body fell to the ground with a dead thud that had stopped her heart. The way she had banged on his chest mercilessly as she begged him to come back to her. The way he writhed as Abby sent shocked him back to life. 

____

She hated them. She hated them for what they did to her friends. She hated them for what they did to the Clans. She hated them for what they did to Lincoln. 

____

But she knew that war with them would not end in anything but more bloodshed and death, something that she was confident the hundred wanted to avoid at all cost. 

____

“Octavia?” 

____

She snapped out of her thoughts, her eyes whipping up to meet his. For a moment, she thought she saw concern flash in his dark gaze before they narrowed at her. 

____

Gritting her teeth, her hands flew back up to the half-closed half opened wound on his shoulder and she grounded out, “We don’t know how it’s possible. All we know is that when we woke up, we knew stuff about the ground that we hadn’t before.” 

____

_On the first drop down_ , she added silently. It was the closest to the truth she could get without sounding like a mad woman but Octavia was pretty sure she would sound like one no matter what excuse she gave. 

____

“Like our names. Our language. Our people?” 

____

“Your land, your enemies, your history,” she confirmed with a nod. 

____

He was silent as she worked her way down the wound, continuing to stare at her as he thought over what she told him. She didn’t know what was going through his head, but she figured that stitching up the wound would give him enough time to wrap his head around it. 

____

After a while, Octavia leaned back to consider her handiwork. It wasn’t as methodical as some of the stitches she had seen Clarke do but she figured it would do until they reached his village, where someone like Nyko could look him over and fix him up properly. 

____

_At least he won’t be bleeding all over the damn forest_ , Octavia sighed as she stood up and made her way across the cave to lean against the wall. Lincoln hefted himself to his feet, grunting slightly when he moved his injured arm too roughly, sending fire burning through his bicep and shoulder blades. 

____

Octavia gave him a sharp look, her gaze darting down to his shoulder before she looked away. 

____

“You probably won’t be able to use it too much for a week or so,” she told him quietly, her voice dark with regret. 

____

Lincoln didn’t reply, only casting the wound a dismissive glance before rummaging through a knapsack thrown in the corner, pulling out a fresh tunic and throwing it over his chest with a pained grunt. Octavia gritted her teeth but didn’t say a word as he struggled with his jerkin. When it came to his armor though, she pushed off the wall and went to help him put it on. 

____

Lincoln didn’t try to stop her, merely staring down at her with that same intensity he had before as she slid the wet cloth between the bone armor and his tunic so it wouldn’t irritate the wound too much. 

____

After she was done, she stopped but didn’t make a move to back away. Instead, she let her hands rest on his bone chest plate and looked up at him, taking in the curious lines of his features with a softness that she knew both confused and intrigued him. 

____

“I’ll go with you to TonDC,” she told him softly, “I want peace. I’m tired of fighting. I’m tired of the violence and the bloodshed and the killing. And if going to your village will be the way to peace, then I’ll go. In chains, if need be. But I’ll go.” 

____

The Trikru warrior searched her eyes for anything that might reveal ulterior motives, that might reveal lies, that might reveal something other than the genuine plead of someone who just wanted to live. But all he saw was a desperate sincerity of someone who spoke the truth. 

____

His face was hard, unyielding of any weakness as he nodded. Keeping his eyes on her, he moved to retrieve the chain and manacles from behind him. 

____

Octavia followed him closely, and when he turned to tell her to hold out her hands, she walked into them willingly. 

____

\- 

____

Octavia’s chains jangled loudly, cutting through the thick silence like a bell ringing out to whoever or whatever lurked in the forest that dinner was walking through. Every loud clang of the chains made both the girl and the Trikru warrior cringe and the latter found himself questioning if having her locked up in chains was more necessary than keeping their journey as quiet as possible. 

____

They had been walking for a little over an hour now and were currently following the face of the mountain around to the eastern side where they would then make a direct trek to the bridge. It was safer that way, as the fog sometimes returned at night. 

____

_Of course_ , Octavia scoffed silently to herself, shaking her hair out of her eyes, _Those bastards in the mountain wouldn’t want their little blood bags to sleep freely without a little reminder of who really rules these lands._

____

The forest was dark and eerily silent except for the lone bird singing the last song of the night. Octavia didn’t remember it being this quiet the first night she spent on the ground, far away from the safety of camp or her brother. In fact, she remembered feeling quite content when she curled up in Jasper’s chest, despite the terrible experience with the giant eel. 

____

Now, she knew better. Her stride didn’t falter, keeping her pace with the Trikru warrior as they walked side by side, their eyes seeking out every stray movement and every slight sound that broke through the silence. 

____

Suddenly the air chilled as they passed the gaping, stone toothed mouth of a cave. Octavia shivered and Lincoln stilled. His hand tightened over her chain and he held up his free hand to signal to her to stop. 

____

Octavia shifted on her feet, shooting a wary look up at him, “ _Chit yo diyo bilaik?_ ” (What are you doing?) 

____

Lincoln didn’t respond nor react to her use of Trigedasleng, instead he turned to face her and his eyes widened in fear. 

____

“ _ **STEP AU!**_ ” (MOVE!) 

____

He reached out to try to grab her in time but it was too late. A rough, heavy hand landed on her shoulder, fingers digging in deep into her shoulder and pulling her into the cave behind them. Octavia struggled with them but the person had a good grip on her and was trying to force her into the ground. She could feel the weight of their body pressing her into the cave floor and snarled low in throat, bucking her wildly to get them off of her. 

____

She kicked out with her foot and her attackers thigh, causing them to tilt to one side and leaving a big enough opening for her to slide her body out of. With no hesitation, she rolled onto her attacker’s back and tried to drag her chains under their chin. But then Lincoln appeared, towering over them both and struggling with trying to swing his sword with his uninjured arm. 

____

Octavia leaned back to avoid a haphazard swipe not meant for her, but her attacker felt the loss of momentum and moved to stand up, knocking her off with an inhuman like strength and causing her to knock her head against the wall. 

____

Her skull throbbed fiercely and the stinging ache from her previous head wound flared up. A wave of fresh blood began dripping down her hairline, and through it she could see her attacker’s shadowy figure stand, their attention now on her taller and bigger companion. 

____

As they did so, the moonlight filtered into the cave, illuminating the previously dark space. In doing so, Octavia could see her attacker, growling low like a beast as their bloodshot eyes narrowed on Lincoln with predatory intent. 

____

_Reaper_ , Octavia’s eyes widened in realization as nausea. 

____

The reaper lunged at Lincoln and the Trikru warrior dropped his sword to defend himself against the oncoming heavy weight. Octavia palmed the cave walls, trying to get a solid leverage to help her to her feet as she rasped out to him, “Lincoln! Throw me the keys!” 

____

She blinked back the wave of dizziness that hit her as she stood up and heard the sound of metal chiming against the stone floor. She squinted down and saw a key glinting from the ground and picked it up, unlocking her shackles while Lincoln did his best to fend the reaper off. 

____

But she could hear him, taking every hit with a pained grunt and an agonized gasp that seared her soul, causing her to hurriedly drop the manacles around her wrist and search the floor for what she knew she needed in order for them to live to see the next sunrise. 

____

Lincoln, however, heard the chains rattle to the floor and no longer fought so fiercely. He knew that giving her the key to free herself from the chains would mean that she could run away and leave him to his fate. When it came down to peace or survival, he couldn’t fault her for choosing the latter. 

____

He refused to hold it against her, for the world continued to make monsters out of them all. But he resisted. He would die as he lived, and he wouldn’t hate someone for choosing to live instead of die. 

____

Closing his eyes, the Trikru warrior prepared to meet the fate of many of his clansmen. 

____

Instead, with a roar worthy of any warrior, Octavia kicked the reaper off of him, causing the man turned beast to scramble to the side as he eyed up the sword in the girl’s hand. Lincoln’s eyes widened as she faced the reaper down, her hands steady and her eyes hard and without the fear he had seen in many seasoned warriors. Octavia didn’t hesitate as she stepped forward, bringing the sword down. 

____

The reaper lunged back, barely escaping the deadly blade, but Octavia was undeterred, swiftly dealing strike after strike after strike until the reaper hit the wall behind him. 

____

Lincoln watched as the girl, with one last battle cry sent the sword into the chest of the reaper and with her head bowed low, she whispered a phrase Lincoln had never expected to hear from the lips of someone outside of the clans. 

____

“ _Yu gonsplei ste odon._ ” (Your fight is over). 

____

She ripped out the sword mercilessly and they watched as the reaper’s body hit the ground with a dull thud. 

____

Lincoln’s eyes were on the body of the reaper she had killed when she turned to check him over, her breaths coming out shallow as she saw the blood coating his lips and the fresh gashes under his eye. He looked exactly like he had been tortured by Bellamy and his militia all over again and it clenched her heart to see that look on him, so soon after getting him back. 

____

Swallowing the bile that crept up her throat, she walked over to him and extended her hand. 

____

“Can you stand?” she rasped out, hoping that she successfully managed to hide how her breath hitched as his callous palms slid into hers. She was mindful to only help pull him up by his uninjured arm, slinging it over her shoulders while he gained his bearings. 

____

Lincoln nursed his injured arm close to his side and sniffed, nodding. He opened his mouth to say something when they heard the sound of hollering and howls echo down the tunnel towards them, torch light burned the cave walls and wavered close by, approaching the intersection where the tunnel system met and led outside of the caves. 

____

Right where her and Lincoln were standing. 

____

Octavia whipped her head up at him, taking in the pain he tried to stifle behind a cloud of determination and hardness. 

____

“Never mind standing,” Octavia shook her head, her eyes searing into his as he moved his gaze to meet her own, “Can you run?” 

____

His jaw clenched at the thought, but he nodded all the same. 

____

“Good. Then **_run_**.” 

____

A foul odour, one that smelt like death and blood, hit the air as a mass of reapers turned the corner, right as Octavia and Lincoln spun on their heels and sprinted out of the caves, taking lungfuls of the fresh, crisp night air as they fled the mountain side. 

____

Despite his injury, Lincoln was the one leading her as they zipped through the trees, mindful of the torchlight that followed in their wake. He called back to her to hurry, but Octavia knew that they wouldn’t be able to outrun a pack full of reapers over a long distance, especially if they were heading to Ton DC. She wouldn’t risk them happening upon the hundred or some other dropship party that hadn’t made it back to the rest of the Ark. 

____

Octavia caught up to Lincoln and gasped loudly, “We need to lose them.” 

____

Lincoln’s face was scrunched up in pain, but he nodded, reaching out with his hand to grab hers. He veered them off the path. They crashed through the low hanging branches and tripped over the roots of the trees, but whenever one of them would falter, the other would pull on their hand and tug them along. 

____

Lincoln grunted as his injured shoulder grazed the trunk of the tree and Octavia looked over her shoulder to see that the shadows had slowed but still tailed them fiercely. 

____

“ **LINCOLN! WHEREVER YOU’RE TAKING US, YOU BETTER FIND IT FAST!** ” 

____

He looked over his shoulder to confirm her words and pulled on her hand. The ground dipped slightly and they slid down the dirt. Dirt turned into grass and shrubbery and Lincoln fell to his knees, brushing away debris. His hand slid against cool metal and he pulled Octavia down so that she was crouching on the ground beside him. 

____

He hooked his fingers around a metal bar and pulled hard. The metal budged and he pulled it up, revealing the inside of what looked like an old vehicle. 

____

“ **Get in!** ” Lincoln demanded roughly, his eyes on the torches flickering in the treeline. 

____

Octavia didn’t hesitate to jump inside, shifting as far back as she could so that Lincoln could make his way in. When he jumped down, he closed the door and shifted close beside her. When she opened her mouth to question him, he clamped a hand over it and they waited in silence as the torch light grew closer, illuminating the windows. 

____

They both held their breaths as the reaper howled above them and braced themselves for if they managed to open the door. 

____

Moments passed, with the hollering reapers seemingly trying to find where they went. Some hissed up at the trees, calling out to them in feral tones that ranged from being mockingly high to being inhumanely low. 

____

Octavia gripped the hand over her mouth hard. Lincoln looked down at her but didn’t move it, not until the hollering eventually faded off as the reapers moved on. 

____

She sighed in relief, sagging back against the vehicle seat and for a moment, neither the girl nor the Trikru warrior said anything except as they struggled to catch their breath. Their lungs burned with exhaustion and her head wound had begun to flare up as the adrenaline drained from her system. 

____

Judging from the pained sighs coming from Lincoln, she could tell that the fight with the reaper from the cave only aggravated his wound more. 

____

Bitterness coated Octavia’s tongue. It was her fault that he was injured and that he couldn’t do more to fight. If they both had weapons and weren’t as banged up as they were, she was confident they could have taken on the pack instead of running from them. 

____

Octavia felt something warm and sticky slide down her cheek and gently brushed the area with the tips of her fingers. She squinted as she brought them out in front of her and made out the dark liquid coating them. 

____

“You’re bleeding.” 

____

Her eyes snapped up to meet his and it struck her how close they were. It was only a small space, barely enough to fit three people and with Lincoln’s bulk, they were squeezed in pretty tight. His head was bowed and his shoulders were pressed together so that his head didn’t brush against the ceiling. Their thighs were pressed into one another and their arms brushed one another when they breathed in and out. 

____

Lincoln had pulled his injured arm onto his chest so that it wasn’t shoved into the wall and Octavia could see that blood had begun to soak through his tunic once more. 

____

“So are you,” she commented, leaning forehead to lift up his shirt, forgetting momentarily of how familiar she was being to someone who only knew her as a stranger. 

____

Her nose scrunched up as she told him, “That bastard opened your wound.” 

____

“He opened yours.” 

____

She waved him off before scrambling to her knees, rummaging through the vehicle for anything she could use to help clean his shoulder. Her stitch work was in ruins and if she couldn’t stop the bleeding, he would pass out or worse, die on her. 

____

_Not going to happen_ , she growled to herself as her hands brushed over something cool and hard. Her fingers wrapped around the neck of what appeared to be a bottle and she pulled it out to inspect it. 

____

“We’re in luck,” she smirked, shaking the bottle at the Trikru warrior, “This stuff is so old, it’ll probably kill any infection you might get for **_life_**.” 

____

Lincoln rearranged himself so that he was cross legged, and she did the same in front of him, placing the bottle in between her thighs. Unzipping her jumpsuit, she pulled her arms out of the sleeves and tied it around her waist, revealing just her tank top. 

____

She balled up the bottom of her top, prepared to take it off when she remembered who she was with. She glanced at him from underneath her lashes and found him waiting patiently, his eyes staring at her with that same intensity. 

____

It had been so long since she was so close with him and her skin began to flush but she didn’t blush, nor falter as she took off her top. Without any hesitation, she uncapped the bottle and poured the alcohol she found onto it before gesturing for Lincoln to take his armour and jerkin off. 

____

Lincoln used his free hand to untie his armor and jerkin, and with Octavia’s help, he pulled back the tunic far enough to reveal his shoulder and the bleeding wound. She leaned forward so that she hovered over him and without a glance at the man beneath her, she pressed the alcohol drenched cloth onto it. 

____

A pained hiss escaped from his teeth, but Lincoln kept his eyes on her the whole time. 

____

“What about you?” he murmured quietly, his brows furrowing as he watched the blood drip down her head. 

____

“I’m fine,” she blinked at him, removing the cloth to inspect the wound before using another section to wipe around it. After that, she made quick work of ripping the cloth into pieces, wrapping one of them around the wound so that it would hinder the bleeding until they got to Ton DC. 

____

When she moved to wrap another piece, he put his free hand on hers to stop her. 

____

Lincoln shook his head, taking the spare piece of cloth under her hand. 

____

“Now it’s your turn.” 

____

She opened her mouth to protest but he had already grabbed the bottle from between her legs and poured a decent amount on it. He passed it back to her and she grabbed it unconsciously, too busy caught up in the look in his eye as he leaned forward, his warm breath becoming one with her own as he pressed the cloth onto her head. 

____

She gritted her teeth and took a swig from the bottle, immediately coughing as the vile, bitter liquid burned her throat. Lincoln tsked her for moving around but continued dabbing at her head. 

____

“You got this because of me.” 

____

Octavia’s eyes flickered up to meet his. She shrugged, taking another, more careful sip of the bottle. 

____

“Can’t blame you. I did stab you after all.” 

____

“You won our fight though. Hitting you like I did, it wasn’t right,” he said roughly, shaking his head. 

____

She scoffed at that before pointing out playfully, “Neither is stabbing people.” 

____

He made a sound in the back of his throat, and his lips twitched imperceptibly. 

____

She bit back a smile of her own, taking another swig. 

____

He finished cleaning around her head and started to wipe the cloth down her face. His nose was barely a hairs breathe away from her own and she could smell the sweat that peppered his forehead. He smelt like the woods after a rainstorm and she tried to be inconspicuous with breathing in his scent. 

____

After…after he was gone, she had tried to keep his scent on the guardsman jacket he used to wear, back when he came to live with her in Arkadia but that too, like everything else that was him, faded with time. After six years, she barely remembered the sound of his voice. 

____

Now he was in front of her, and she saw his lips appear in her line of sight before her eyes fluttered shut. 

____

_He’s so close, too close._

____

Her hands fisted in the pants of her jumpsuit. 

____

“Thank you,” he whispered softly, wiping the cloth against her cheek. 

____

Her eyes fluttered open in surprise and confusion. 

____

“You could have left me when I gave you the key,” he clarified, meeting her eyes, “You could have ran away, back to your people. Found another warrior you knew to get you your peace.” 

____

The cloth stopped, and for a few moments his hand cradled her cheek. 

____

“You don’t have to thank me,” Octavia whispered. 

____

His thumb brushed her skin and she shivered as he whispered back, “I know. I thank you, all the same.” 

____

_He’s close enough that I can practically feel his lips when he speaks to me._

____

_His whisper is practically coming from my own mouth._

____

She stared at him in what could only be utter devotion and it came back to her in flashes, the brightest flashes of her life. 

____

\- 

____

_“I’m so sorry,” she sighed as her eyes scoured his bruised and battered body. The Trikru warrior who had kidnapped her, who had then in turn been captured by her brother and the rest of the hunting party who had come up after her, was caked in dirt, sweat and blood._

____

_After hours of torture at the hands of Bellamy, Raven and Clarke, the man’s athletically toned body was damp with perspiration and the limb that she held steady with one hand trembled slightly with barely restrained exhaustion._

____

_She shook her head and wiped the wet cloth across his bloody palm, the gaping hole in the middle causing another round of nausea. Octavia swallowed roughly and blinked back the tears that welled in the corners of her eyes at the example of her brother’s brutality before her._

____

_A small gasp escaped her lips as more blood spilled down his palms and she whipped her head up to meet his eyes as she told him fiercely, “I never wanted any of this to happen to you.”_

____

_Her knuckles warmed as his thumb moved to sweep across them, the movement tender and so unlike anything she had imagined feeling from the people who sent spears through the chests of her friends._

____

_His thumb brushed her hand back and forth in what could only be described as reassuring and her eyes flickered up to meet his in shock._

____

_His dark gaze was soft as he beheld her and he swallowed hard, his voice a wet whisper as he said, “Thank…you.”_

____

_Her eyes searched his and just as her own fingers swiped across his own, just as she opened her mouth to respond – with god knows what – Miller woke up from his nap and the moment between the girl under the floor and the Trikru warrior who kidnapped her was broken._

____

\- 

____

_She had been waiting two days for another moment to talk to him and it finally came. Connor had called Miller down to talk to Roma’s parents on the radio, leaving her with ten minutes alone with him. As soon as the delinquent disappeared down the ladder, Octavia crept out of her hiding spot and hurried up to the second floor of the dropship._

____

_The Trikru warrior sagged in his chains but he was still standing, much to her surprise. She quickly spun around to close the hatchet door, telling him over her shoulder, “Hi. We don’t have a lot of time.”_

____

_He lifted his head as she approached, and she saw that one of his eyes was heavily bruised and bloated._

____

_Curtesy of Bellamy’s inability to hold back, she thought in disgust, shaking her head silently._

____

_Her eyes were soft when they met his and she came up close, dropping the bag she had packed onto the floor as she told him, “I brought you some water.”_

____

_She brought up the flask to his lips, urging him to drink, “Here.”_

____

_She helped him drink, waiting as he took a few sips, before bringing the bottle back._

____

_“That’s good, right?” she asked as she wiped her sleeve across his mouth._

____

_Octavia waited for him to swallow before offering him the flask again, speaking up to apologize._

____

_“I’m sorry I haven’t seen you since everything happened. My brother’s been keeping me away. He’s a total dick, which you’ve probably already figured out.”_

____

_The Trikru warrior scoffed, and she pulled back with bright eyes and a bright smile. His lips were curled up in amusement. Octavia got a glimpse of a real smile from him and she found it…handsome._

____

_“You do understand me,” she beamed up at him, whispering playfully, “I knew it.”_

____

_She moved to put the water and the bag on one of the chairs in the corner before making her way back to him, looking him over for anything that she could help him with to make him more…comfortable._

____

_Yeah, O, because he is going to be so comfortable in chains, she chided herself._

____

_“At least let me get you cleaned up,” she waved her hands at him before shrugging off her jacket._

____

_She spied the bucket in the corner and scoffed. Nobody had bothered to empty it, but it was the best she could do. She squeezed out the cloth and scrunched up her nose as blood dripped out and back into the bucket._

____

_She turned back to him, ducking under his arms to come around to his chest. She started at his abdomen, wiping the dirt and blood that caked it and flushing darkly at how muscular he was. She moved up but paused as she brushed against a bloody gash on his ribs._

____

_Octavia’s breath went shallow and she shook her head as she met his eyes, “This is all my fault because I freaked out so bad when you locked me up in that cave.”_

____

_Her eyes got glassy as she brought up the cloth to his face, using her fingertips to tilt his chin up so she could get a better look._

____

_“You’d totally understand if you knew how I grew up,” she told him quietly, bitterness coating her tongue like a second skin._

____

_“My name…” his lips moved as she began to wipe his jaw, “Is Lincoln.”_

____

_She leaned back; eyes wide._

____

_“Lincoln?”_

____

_He gazed at her with soft eyes and her heart skipped a beat._

____

_“I’m Octavia.”_

____

\- 

____

“I think it’s safe.” 

____

She was back in the vehicle, and the warmth of his thumb disappeared. Lincoln had moved so that he was on his knees beside her, his hands pressed against the roof. The heat of his eyes was no longer on her but staring intently through the fogged up glass window. 

____

“Let’s go,” he murmured back down at her, and without checking to see if she would follow, he pushed open the vehicle door and hefted himself out. 

____

Octavia gritted her teeth and cursed herself for getting caught up in memories that no longer belonged in the world she woke up in. Brushing a hand across her eyes, she got to her feet and followed him out. 

____

Without another word, they took off into the forest, heading for the bridge she once helped blow up. 

____

\- 

____

Octavia stilled on the bridge, her bare hands ghosting over the rusted railing that supported both sides of the ancient structure. Moss tickled her palms and her eyes flickered across to the other side where once upon a time, a group of kids emerged hoping for peace after they unknowingly declared war. She could see it like phantoms drifting over the ground. 

____

A young girl, foolish, naïve and grasping onto any purpose, onto any connection she could get her hands on. A young man, brave and idealistic, wanting something more, something beyond the fight that had been ingrained into him since he was a child. 

____

She saw them like it was only yesterday, running across the bridge and enveloping the other into their warm embrace, clutching at their skin like they were clutching at the hope the other felt. That maybe, just maybe, the fight would be over, and they would know a day without it. 

____

Octavia’s fingers wrapped around the railing. They would know that day, all of them would. Her, Bellamy, Clarke, Miller, Raven, Murphy. Lincoln. By the time she was done with this world, she would go with the claim of knowing peace. 

____

“Octavia – “ 

____

A sound pierced the air and she jumped back instinctively. An arrow struck the ground in front of her and she heard the trees rustle across the bridge from where she stood. Lincoln threw his hands up, only a few feet from her and yelled out, “ _ **HOD YO TRIGPLEI OP!**_ ” (HOLD YOUR FIRE!) 

____

The trees fell silent and the air grew taunt, taunt like the bow strings of the Trikru scouts hiding in the trees. 

____

A gruff voice yelled out at them, “ ** _HOLA AU YU TAGON!_** ” (SPEAK YOUR NAME!) 

____

Lincoln stepped forward, with his hands up in the air, and declared, “ _Ai laik Linkon kom Trikru!_ ” (I am Lincoln of the Woods Clan!) 

____

A moment passed where no one spoke. Octavia’s eyes narrowed on the trees, imaging the warriors kneeling in them, ready to let free their arrows. She gritted her teeth as the wait went on when the sound of boots hitting the ground echoed across the bridge to them. A man strode out, pulling up his mask. 

____

He was tall, probably the same height as the Trikru warrior that stood with her and had dark hair that was pulled back and tied behind his head in a ponytail. Braids slithered down to rest against his collarbone and she spied the sharp, elongated teeth of his skulled helmet jutting up from his head. He had dark marks under both of his eyes and a grizzly beard. 

____

As he approached them, Lincoln strode forth to meet him. They clasped forearms and the newcomer spoke up, this time in _gonasleng_. 

____

“Anya was wondering why you had not reported in yet,” he murmured, his gruff voice helping Octavia identify him as the one who had shouted out to them. 

____

His eyes trailed over Lincoln’s shoulder to where she stood waiting. 

____

She stood tall as his gaze narrowed on her, and she didn’t miss how his mouth tightened at the corners as he muttered to Lincoln, this time in Trigedasleng, “ _Chon em bilaik?_ ” (Who is she?) 

____

Lincoln opened his mouth to respond but Octavia beat him to it. 

____

“ _Ai laik Oktevia kom Skairaizkru. Ai gaf chich to yo wocha to ginteiknes ogonzaun._ ” (I am Octavia from the Sky Rebel People. I want to talk to your chief to negotiate for peace.) 

____

The warrior’s eyes widened, “You’re one of the Sky People?” 

____

Octavia jutted out her chin, “I am.” 

____

The warrior spun on Lincoln, his eyes furious as he exclaimed incredulously, “And you believe her?!” 

____

Octavia stepped forward and soon found a sword lined up with her chest. The warrior growled at her. 

____

“ **Don’t come close.** ” 

____

She slowly raised her hands to mimic Lincoln’s gesture from before and inclined her head, “I do not want to fight you. I am willing to talk to your leaders and tell them what they wish to know.” 

____

Lincoln spoke up before the warrior could object, laying a hand on the man’s shoulder as he revealed softly, “Anya ordered me to bring back everything that I learnt of the invaders. _She_ – “ 

____

He looked back at her, and their eyes met once more and held, “She is willing to tell us what we need to know. She claims her people are no ally to _Maunon_. That they seek peace with us.” 

____

“It’s a **_trap_** ,” the warrior hissed, attempting to move forward with his sword. 

____

Lincoln snatched out with his hand, fingers wrapping around his fellow clansman’s wrist to halt his attack as he grounded out, “Than she will be our hostage. If she is an ally, we get information. If she is an enemy…” 

____

His gaze flickered to the waiting girl as he growled out, “We will have a weapon that will keep her people in line.” 

____

Octavia resisted the urge to smirk back at him. She didn’t think it would come across as a very friendly gesture to his friend but she knew what Lincoln was thinking. 

____

She was a weapon alright. Just not one that they would be able to use should they attempt it. 

____

The other warrior gritted his teeth in frustration and reluctantly drew back. He made no attempt to sheath his sword and brought his fingers to his lips, whistling low. The trees rustled again and more boots thudded as the scouts jumped from the trees and onto the ground below. 

____

The warrior beckoned to his scouts, “ _Lid ai gapa!_ ” (Bring me a horse!) 

____

He waited for an affirmation before turning back to Lincoln with a grunt, “I hope you know what you’re doing.” 

____

Lincoln nodded but didn’t say anything as the man handed him a rope. The warrior lifted his chin at Octavia and said, “She’ll have to be blindfolded and tied up.” 

____

“I already know the way to your village,” Octavia drawled as she came forth, the warrior’s eyes glaring at her as she walked over to Lincoln, holding out her hands to the Trikru warrior with a knowing glint in her eyes as she said, “And it wouldn’t be the first time.” 

____

Lincoln’s gaze bore into hers as he wrapped the rope around both her wrists, tying it into a knot around the middle and pulling at it until it was tight enough to reassure his fellow warrior that she wouldn’t try anything. 

____

A horse was brought out to him and Lincoln retrieved the reins, ignoring the questioning looks he was getting from his clansmen. Turning to Octavia, he wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her up, trying to stifle the pain shooting up his arm from his shoulder. 

____

Octavia frowned in concern and whispered, “Are you going to be okay?” 

____

Lincoln ignored her question and swung up behind her, wrapping his injured arm gingerly around her to hold her to him while holding the reins with his free hand. 

____

Lincoln leaned down and brought his lips to the shell of her ear and whispered, “Don’t antagonize them.” 

____

The girl raised a brow, “That wasn’t what I was doing.” 

____

“What were you doing?” 

____

She faced forward, keeping her shoulders straight and relaxed as she muttered, “Showing them that I’m not afraid.” 

____

Lincoln frowned down at her and opened his mouth to say something when the warrior they spoke to on the bridge rode up to them, his steed a pitch-black stallion with its skull bared for the world to see. 

____

The warrior lifted his chin to his shoulder, and asked, “What happened to you?” 

____

Octavia stiffened against Lincoln. She hurt him, drew blood in their fight and dealt him a wound that would have meant his death if it was just a bit lower on his chest. For someone who claimed she wanted peace, her injury of a member of the _Kongeda_ , especially a member of the clan she was approaching, would not aid her. In fact, it could destroy the peace she yearned for before it even had a chance to be born. 

____

Bowing her head in shame, she opened her mouth to admit her deed when Lincoln spoke up in a rough voice, “Reapers. Ran into them on our way here. A pack of them too.” 

____

The other warrior snarled in disgust, eyes turning to the mountain in the distance. The one that had dealt their people so much suffering for so long. 

____

The warrior spat on the ground and cursed, “ _ **Nomonjokes**_.” (Motherfuckers). 

____

With that, he reared his horse around and rode off down the path. Lincoln clicked his tongue to urge their horse to start off. His fingers clenched on her stomach as the horse took off after the other warrior and when she looked back at him, she saw his jaw tick in agony. 

____

“Why did you lie?” she asked him, speaking softly so that that her voice wouldn’t travel back to the others riding behind them. 

____

Lincoln didn’t look at her when he replied, “Because I don’t want to fight you or yours just as much as you don’t want to fight me and mine.” 

____

\- 

____

It was exactly as she remembered it. 

____

The first time she ventured past the broken memorial of which the Trikru warrior at her back was named after, she walked a path that weaved between two dirt banks with a knife to Nyko’s throat. The second time she travelled the path, her and her people were attending the first peace summit between the Commander and Skaikru. The third and last time she walked into TonDC, she walked out with the dust of it’s ruins all over her. 

____

Now, for the first time in a century, she was back, staring down from the top of the ridges at the thriving heart of Trikru territory, rebuilt as if a missile never hit it and killed two hundred and fifty people. 

____

“Have you…been here before?” 

____

Octavia stiffened up. 

____

Lincoln’s breath warmed her neck as he whispered, “Did…did the Anomaly show you this place?” 

____

She felt the air whoosh out of her lungs, the bundle of nerves loosening around her shoulders once more. 

____

She nodded at him but didn’t say anything else. He didn’t question it, merely prompting their horse to continue on down the hill. There were sentries posted outside the village and who strode forward to meet them, calling back to the others, “ _Tel Anya don fossopes don komba!_ ” (Tell Anya that the scouts have returned!) 

____

Octavia perked up at the familiar name, something that Lincoln did not miss. His fingers pressed into her hips in warning, one that she heeded and settled down. She plastered on a carefully blank face and looked forward. 

____

The sentries stepped aside and the warrior from the bridge led the scouts into the village. Octavia looked around and found that the people had started to gather outside of their homes, probably waiting for news of the invaders they saw fall from the sky earlier that day. 

____

Octavia met the eyes of a little girl as she and Lincoln rode past. The girl was probably no older than ten, with straw blonde hair. She clutched a ragdoll in her hand, with her other wrapped around a small, wooden knife that was crudely cut. But the girl’s eyes were wide in shock and fear as they followed Octavia. 

____

Octavia did the only thing she could think of. 

____

She smiled. 

____

The girl gasped and stepped back. The fingers at Octavia’s waist pressed deeper into her hips. 

____

Lincoln’s exasperated sigh rumbled through her back, “What did I tell you?” 

____

Octavia rolled her eyes as she grumbled back, “I didn’t do anything _bad_. It’s a smile.” 

____

“You are riding through here. That _is_ bad,” he explained to her quietly, “Even the friendliest of gestures can be taken as a threat.” 

____

“ _Fine_ ,” she hissed, settling back into his chest, still paying mind not to jostle the arm around her. 

____

They followed in the warrior’s train until he stopped in front of the building where her people once sat down to celebrate the peace between Skaikru and the Coalition. Right before Gustus fell after drinking the cup of the Commander, the cup he poisoned. 

____

_Good times_ , Octavia thought sarcastically to herself as the scouts dismounted from their horses. Lincoln maneuvered himself off and landed on the ground with a barely concealed grimace before reaching up to lift her off the horse. Her tied hands leaned against his chest to brace herself, and he waited patiently for her to work off the pins and needles in her calves and feet. 

____

When she looked up to indicate that she was alright, he wrapped his uninjured hand around her bicep and walked her down the steps that led further into the building. Inside the room she had once dined in with her people, she found that the table that was prepared in the middle of the room the first time around was pushed against the far wall. At the other end of the hall, three grand chairs stood. 

____

The one in the middle remained empty while the two adjacent chairs were occupied by a face almost as familiar to Octavia as the one that led her inside and a face that she hadn’t seen since that day on the bridge. 

____

Anya and Indra stared back at her, their faces dark and their eyes narrowed in suspicion, mistrust, and scrutiny. Indra stood up immediately when Octavia was led in, her hand going straight to the pommel of her sword. Anya sat back in her own chair, her hands resting casually on the armrests with her legs spread apart. Leaning against her knee was her sword, out of its sheath and gleaming from the light of the candles that lit the room. 

____

Lincoln walked her to the front of the room, positioning her in front of the two women. With a subtle squeeze of her shoulder that she thought might be his attempt at reassuring her, he took his place behind her. 

____

The room was silent as the two women appraised her and she them. Octavia tried to keep her face as blank as one would when meeting a stranger, despite the fact that she knew them both well. Especially when her gaze met Indra’s, her old mentor glaring at her with a snarl that spoke volumes of just how much she approved of Lincoln bringing her here. 

____

Octavia had to fight back a wry smile at that fearsome expression and her heart lightened at seeing the woman who had become just as much her family as her own brother again. 

____

“ _Linkon kom Trikru_ ,” Anya spoke up suddenly, standing up from her chair, “ _Chon don yu lid dison Skai gada hir?_ ” (Why have you brought this Sky girl here?) 

____

Lincoln walked forward so that he stood beside Octavia, bowing his head to Anya before answering, “ _Em set daun emas ai op, wormana. Em seiso don gaf in ogonzaun op gon Kongeda._ ” (She surrendered herself to me, War Chief. She claims to seek peace with the Clans.) 

____

“ _Em seiso, hm?_ ” (She claims, hmn?) Anya drawled. Her brows twitched, a sign of clear disbelief but she managed to keep her bored expression on her face as she waved Octavia forth, “ _Tel yu liwa Skai gada to chich op._ ” (Tell your little Sky Girl to speak.) 

____

Octavia raised her brow at the nickname but didn’t respond. What was one more title to the growing list she could claim to have once worn, in one life or the other? 

____

Instead, she waited until Lincoln nodded at her before stepping forward and inclining her head. 

____

When she raised it, she spoke up in a loud, clear voice as she declared, “ _Ai laik Oktevia kom Skairaizkru en ai kom in ogonzaun, bilaik do ai kru. Osir gaf to glong Kongeda._ ” (I am Octavia from the Sky Rebel People and I come in peace, as do my people. We wish to join the Coalition.) 

____

Murmurs erupted from around the room as fear and suspicion crept into the eyes of the warriors as they stared at the _Skai gada_ who knew Trigedasleng, the language of their people. 

____

Anya held up a hand to silence them. The War Chief of Trikru stepped forward, her brown eyes flaring as they moved from Octavia to where Lincoln stood beside her. 

____

“ _Nau ai get in hakom yu lak y'odop, Linkon._ ” (Now I know why it took you so long to come back, Lincoln.) 

____

“She didn’t learn from me,” Lincoln shook his head, hands curling up at his sides, “She spoke it when she approached me.” 

____

Anya’s eyes darkened when they eventually settled back on Octavia and the War Chief snarled. 

____

“ _Hola au, Okevia kom Skairaizkru._ ” (Speak, Octavia of the Sky Rebel People). 

____

Octavia nodded, “ _En's ridiyo._ ” (It’s true.) 

____

The Sky Girl’s eyes flickered to the Chief of TonDc, who was currently pacing behind Anya with a glare that told the whole room just how she felt about this turn of events. 

____

“A small faction of people from those that landed in your territory this morning know the language of the Clans. We know the lands you have a claim to, and we know the people who can make those claims. We also know of the people that threaten them,” Octavia explained, standing up tall with a straight back and an unwavering voice, “We know of the _Maunon_ , who steal your people and keep them prisoner in their mountain. We know of your struggles with Azgeda, the Ice Nation to the north who continuously spits on your Commander’s peace – “ 

____

Indra lunged forward with her lip curled back in a growl, “ _ **Ha chomouda yu get in hashta Heda?!**_ ” (How do you know about the Commander?) 

____

Anya held up an arm to keep her from attacking the Sky Girl, who she found herself impressed with. The girl, Octavia, did not flinch in the face of Trikru’s fiercest warrior. This made Anya wonder what Octavia would flinch in the face of. 

____

Anya glanced over her shoulder at the Chief of TonDC and murmured, “ _Nomou, Indra._ ” (Enough, Indra.) 

____

Indra settled back but did not lose her glare nor move it from scorching the face of the Sky Girl. 

____

Anya turned back to Octavia and waved her hand to continue. 

____

Octavia inclined her head before speaking once more, “I speak on behalf of Skairaizkru and it’s leaders when I say that we only wish to see peace between our clan and the _Kongeda_.” 

____

“I see,” Anya spoke in a clipped tone before asking, “And what do Skairaizkru have to offer the _Kongeda_?” 

____

Octavia’s lips twitched as she fought back a smile before she revealed, “We know how to bring the _Maunon_ to heel.” 

____

Her bold claim was met with silence before a commotion broke out from the steps Octavia came through. Octavia whipped around as two warriors, both strangely unarmed and worn out, stepped into the room and approached the chairs that Octavia, Lincoln, Anya and Indra stood before. 

____

“What is the meaning of this?!” Indra scowled as she beheld them, her brows furrowed close to her eyes. 

____

“We followed a group of Skaikru. One of them used our tongue and stood up, calling us out from the trees. We thought it was a challenge and engaged the man in combat, but we were interrupted.” 

____

Anya threw a dry look over her shoulder at Octavia, who stared at the two warriors in confusion. When she left Bellamy and the rest of their people, they were heading for the small bunker Clarke had told them to go to. With Bellamy, Murphy and Jasper leading them, no one should have stepped out of line and done something as foolish as openly challenge the people that once killed them. 

____

“Is that so?” Anya drawled before asking, “What stopped you?” 

____

“A girl, _wormana_ ,” one of the warriors spoke up, spitting the word as if it was a curse, “She wielded a _foyagon_.” 

____

Everyone flinched back at the world and Indra stormed up to the warrior who had spoken, pulling him up by his armor as she snarled in his face, “ ** _What girl?!_** ” 

____

“She called herself _Wanheda_.” 

____

Tension flooded through the room at the name. 

____

Someone gasped from the back of the room and Anya’s face went ashen. 

____

Indra stared at the warrior in her grasp for a long moment before dropping him to the floor, spinning around and unsheathing the sword at her side. 

____

She brought it out in front of her and pointed the blade at Octavia with a ruthless glint in her eyes. 

____

" **Explain, _Skai gada_.**” 

____

Octavia held up her hands and with a smile, she inclined her head, “ _She_ would be one of our leaders and the person I speak for. Clarke, _kom Skairaizkru._ The Commander of Death.” 

____

“How do you know of that name, _Skai gada_?!” 

____

“Because after slaying a mountain of her own, that is what the people called her,” Octavia revealed, trying to stay as close to the truth as possible, “Once, my people were stolen, just as yours have been. Wanheda gathered an army to charge this mountain but they turned on her and left my people to rot. I, Wanheda and those loyal to her, snuck into the mountain and walked out with our captured people. She did not leave any survivors.” 

____

Anya’s brows rose at the story and Octavia felt Lincoln’s questioning gaze burning into her, but Octavia didn’t look at any of them. Instead, she looked to Indra, who’s sword still hovered over her heart with the steadiness of a warrior who was not afraid to strike a blow if she didn’t like what she heard. 

____

Indra’s features were unreadable, almost carefully so, as she appraised her with furrowed brows. 

____

Anya spoke up after a moment and asked, “Why would Wanheda want peace?” 

____

“Because despite the name others have given her, she only wants one thing and that is to protect her people,” Octavia said, her face softening slightly. It had taken a long time for her to understand why Clarke did the things she did. It wasn’t until she was facing down her people, gun in hand, that she understood that a leader needed to sacrifice in order to make sure their people prospered. In her and Clarke’s case, it was their soul. 

____

Anya considered her for a long moment before turning to the warriors as she told them, “ **Go**.” 

____

They inclined their heads to her before doing as she ordered, walking out without a glance at anyone else in the room. Anya then glanced up at Indra before nodding imperceptibly. The Chief of TonDC clenched her jaw but followed after them, not before sending another unfathomable look at Octavia as she passed. 

____

Anya turned on her heel and walked back to her seat, sitting down with a sigh as if she were tired of the events that were playing out. She brought her sword into her lap and traced the pommel with her fingertips as she looked down at Octavia and Lincoln with a hard expression. 

____

“You **claim** that you and Wanheda want peace. That you offer us a way to **slay** our mountain as Wanheda did yours. You **claim** that you and your clan threaten no violence but,” Anya’s fingers stilled and her eyes flared as she declared flatly, “That is a **lie**.” 

____

Octavia’s brows furrowed as she whispered, “ _What?_ ” 

____

“One of your people have already taken up arms against one of ours. They struck them and almost dealt them a killing blow. If it weren’t for our scouts and a miracle on itself, we would have lost one of our warriors.” 

____

Lincoln and Octavia stiffened. How did they know about their fight? Was someone watching them? Did they hear their exchange on the horse? Did their words travel back on the wind like she feared? 

____

Anya’s hard gaze travelled over Octavia, lingering on Lincoln and she felt her stomach drop, thinking that this was the moment peace would be brutally murdered before it was even born. All because of her bloodlust, her inability to restrain herself or the demons that snapped at the leash that she had created through the blood, sweat and tears she had shed on Sanctum after Bellamy banished her. 

____

She could see it now. 

____

Gunshots firing in galley as Grounders raced between the trees, drawing them out, wasting their bullets. 

____

Grabbing onto Lincoln and looking back at a distance as the Ring of Fire set the trees behind the aflame. 

____

Coming back to the dropship and treading upon the ashes of three hundred people. 

____

The way the ghosts lingered around the former camp, only to be joined by more and more as people on both sides dropped dead in a seemingly never-ending war between Skaikru and the Clans. 

____

Octavia was once the one to unite them after claiming the title of Champion, of Osleya, leading all the people down into the bunker, to sanctuary from Praimfaya. 

____

It was ironic that it would be her almost killing Lincoln that would cause them to declare war against one another once more. 

____

But Anya’s gaze didn’t rest long on Lincoln. 

____

Instead, it narrowed on something over his shoulder as a commotion once again was heard from the stairs. The doors flew open and this time Indra stormed like a dormant whirlwind of leather and sharp blades, followed by the two warriors from before. In between them, half dragged, and half carried, was a person with a tweed bag thrown over their head. 

____

Octavia’s mouth gaped at the sight of Ark issued clothing and the way the person’s leg was bandaged and supported by a temporary tourniquet. The leg limped in an effort to keep up with the long, purposeful strides of the warriors but in the end, they didn’t care, letting it drag along. 

____

Octavia’s head shook in disbelief as the warriors brought the person to kneel in front of Octavia, their knees hitting the concrete floor with a force that wrought out a high-pitched gasp, followed by a growl of pain that Octavia was all too familiar with. 

____

Anya stood up from her chair and walked to stand behind the kneeling person, her fingers gripping the tweed back as she drawled menacingly, “Look upon the person that cost you and your people peace.” 

____

With that, she pulled off the tweed bag to reveal the dark olive face underneath, covered in dirt with bloody gashes marring her cheeks and forehead. Dark brown eyes squinted at the sudden light before focusing on the girl who stood before her, widening when she recognized who she was. 

____

Raven Reyes’ lips curled up at the corners in a humorless smirk as she said, “About time you showed up.”

____

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took so fucking long but I did it!  
> \- What part did you like best?  
> \- Did you guys enjoy Octavia's POV and would you like to see more of it in the future?  
> \- What grounder would you like a POV of in the future?  
> \- What did you think about the use of Trig? Too much? Perfect? Want more?  
> \- Did you guys like the Linctavia flashbacks from season 1?   
> \- Did you guys enjoy the canon season 1 easter eggs like car?  
> \- Which Linctavia interaction in the chapter was your favourite?  
> \- What did you think about Indra and Anya? Want more of them, less of them?  
> \- What did you find most interesting?  
> \- What would you like to see most next chapter?  
> \- What do you think I could improve and what do you want to see more of?  
> Feed me please. All this hard work has made me hungry for all of your thoughts!!!


	13. Raven Reyes: Little Bird

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Raven hadn’t felt this cold in years._
> 
> _When she opened her eyes, she realized why._
> 
> _Her eyes squinted up at the small, metal bird that she was named after as it swung from a chain above her bed like a baby mobile, and she reached up unconsciously to take it off the hook it hung from to bring it close to her face, her mouth agape._
> 
> _One moment she was in the courtyard in the center of Sanctum, limping to their infirmary, arm in arm with Murphy and Emori, and the next she was lying on her back, in her old bedroom in Mecha Station._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I know you have all been eager for an update and everyone has been looking forward to seeing Raven since the early chapter's of this fic so here you go! I hope you all enjoy it, this is the first part of what Raven has been up to and it explains a lot about why the Ark has come down.
> 
> Just a special shoutout to my Beta, Dev_30, for taking the time out of her schedule to look over and help with the progress for these two chapters. Her support has motivated me so much and it is a credit to her that I have not only managed to write up one chapter but two chapters for you guys this month.
> 
> Please leave a kudos and comment below, I really look forward to hearing your thoughts!
> 
> -
> 
> CHAPTER 14 WILL BE UPLOADED SOON!

They were thrown into a deep hole with only a small, narrow cavern as their exit. It was blocked by a rusted metal gate, locked with a chain and guarded by two huge warriors, armed to the teeth with faces hidden from sight by bulky, bone-skulled helmets.  


Raven had avoided looking at them since they took up a position outside of the cavern and had instead peered up at the gaping hole in the ceiling, sealed off from those who might dare climb out by a steel barrier.  


Through the rectangular holes, she could see the night sky turn grey with every second passed. She could tell it was close to sunrise, meaning that she had been on the ground for almost a full day.  


From her spot on the leaf-covered floor, Raven glanced to her right to see the dark-haired girl crouched beside her, her back against the faded yellow and blue-tiled walls. Tiled, like the washrooms on the Ark. Raven's brows furrowed as she studied their surroundings, noticing the thick concrete under the tiles. She realized that they must be in an old underground facility from before the first bombs, one the Grounders use as a sort of makeshift prison.  


Raven tore her gaze away from the wall and turned to Octavia, whose eyes were narrowed at the other prisoner who had been thrown in the cell a little after them.  


“So,” Raven drawled, hefting her torso off the floor to lean against the wall beside Octavia, “How long ago did the Ark land?”  


“Shouldn’t you know?” Octavia rasped back in a low voice. Raven had been surprised when the girl spoke, sounding so much like the empty, bloodthirsty monster she had come to be known as instead of the young, naïve teenage girl whose body she wore like it was still her own, “What are you doing in TonDC, Raven?”  


“Should I really be answering that right now?” Raven questioned, turning to the strange grounder girl shivering in the corner, “We might be overheard.”  


Octavia looked over at the girl. The girl had light brown hair, pulled back into a ponytail with a dark cloth wrapped around her forehead. The lower portion of her face was concealed with red scarf-like material and what little skin she had exposed was clear of any war paint. She had been avidly avoiding the gaze of the two Skaikru prisoners since she had been thrown into the room. The only thing they could see was her back, with her shoulder blades exposed due to the flimsy tank top she had on.  


Octavia turned away and shook her head dismissively, murmuring quietly, “She’s probably a _friekdreina_ that wandered too far inland. People outside the clans don’t speak _gonasleng_ , so she won’t be able to understand us. But the warriors guarding the exit can, so it’s best we speak quietly.”

Octavia had a manacle clamped on her right ankle, with a chain connected to the bolt in the wall above her. Raven was able to avoid such measures from the grounders due to the injury she got from impact, having heard Indra snark derogatorily, “She’s not going anywhere on that foot.”  


Ignoring the familiar bitterness that clung to her throat like bile, Raven narrowed her eyes at the Grounder girl before turning away, moving so that she was close enough to Octavia that they could speak to one another without being overheard by the warriors at the other end of the cavern.  


“You didn’t answer my question,” Octavia pointed out in a low voice, “Why are you in TonDC?”  


Raven cast another suspicious glance over her shoulder before replying, “I was captured. After I landed in my pod.”  


Octavia’s eyes widened by minuscule before she asked, “So, it was just like last time for you? You came down in the pod?”  


“When did all of you – when did you guys ‘wake up’?” Raven struggled for a better way to put it but gave up. Instead, she turned her head to the side to fix the other girl with a searching look. Octavia frowned back at her, confused.  


“I woke up as soon as my dropship touched the ground, Bellamy a few minutes after,” Octavia replied, her brows furrowed over her eyes. Raven didn’t answer her question and in fact, had been avoiding answering most of the questions she had asked.  


Instead, she was the one turning them back on her and Octavia knew that the other girl knew more than she let on.  


“ **Raven** ,” Octavia rasped out, reaching over to grip her shoulder, “Why were you the one to come down in the pod?”  


Raven slowly turned her head down to look at the hand on her shoulder and shook it off with a scoff, stretching her injured leg out in front of her with a wince.  


“Because I was the first one to wake up.” 

#### TWO WEEKS AGO

_Raven hadn’t felt this cold in years._

_When she opened her eyes, she realized why._

_It was the soft, pale grey of her old bedroom walls that gave it away. The red springs that spiraled down from the ceiling. The lingering scent of oil in the air where her workshop merged with her bedroom._

_Her eyes squinted up at the small, metal bird that she was named after as it swung from a chain above her bed like a baby mobile, and she reached up unconsciously to take it off the hook it hung from to bring it close to her face, her mouth agape._

_One moment she was in the courtyard in the center of Sanctum, limping to the infirmary, arm in arm with Murphy and Emori, and the next she was lying on her back, in her old bedroom in Mecha Station._

_She didn’t know how she got there, but she was on the Ark._

_She was on the Ark._

_The Ark fell over a hundred years ago. There was nothing left except the Ring._

_Mecha Station landed on Earth. It was destroyed in Praimfaya._

_What the hell is this?_

_Raven lunged up from her cot, her hands ripping off the blanket that was draped over her body. The cool air rushed to meet her exposed legs and she gaped down at them in shock and confusion. The scars that once marred them, the bullet wound that had long since scabbed and blistered and thinned into nothing more than a constant reminder of her time at the dropship was **gone**. _

_Any evidence of Murphy shooting her, or the damage she received from the bombing of the acid fog machine had been wiped clean from her skin and left it as smooth and as toned as it had been before her fall to the ground. Raven bit her lip, her fingers playing with the hem of the tank top as panic rose within her._

_It’s not possible, it’s not possible, it’s not possible._

_The thought repeated itself on a loop in her head as she pulled her top up to reveal her side. Raven pulled down the elastic of her shorts to reveal the skin at her hip. There was no hole from the drill that once pierced her hip, sucking out the bone marrow. There was nothing to show of her brief time in Mount Weather._

_All her scars from her time on the ground had disappeared._

_Almost like she never fell._

_“What the fuck?” Raven hissed quietly to herself as she stumbled out of bed and over to her desk where her monitor sat. In the corner of the screen, alongside the time and the menu, was the date._

_2149\. Almost a hundred years after ALIE caused the first bombs to go off, starting the Nuclear Apocalypse._

_97 years to be exact. Ark Year 97. The year a Hundred prisoners were sent to the ground._

_And Raven, following after them twelve days later._

_“Wait a goddamn minute,” she muttered to herself as she clicked to enlarge the calendar, “That can’t be right.”_

_She pulled up the stool from under her desk and took a seat, wincing as the back of her calves came to rest on the cool metal legs. Raven leaned forward until her nose was brushing against the screen and shook her head._

_“It’s not possible.”_

_But the monitor did not glitch. It did not waver. And it did not lie._

_It was the 30th of August. Two weeks before the Hundred were sent to the ground._

_Key word: **Before**._

_It hasn’t happened yet, she realized with wide eyes as she sat back from the screen._

_“Oh shit.”_

-

Back in their makeshift cell, Raven nodded her head and sighed at Octavia’s dumbfounded expression as she murmured quietly, “I remember sitting there for a while, trying to wrap my mind around it. I just couldn’t think of any phenomenon in which I could possibly be sent back over a hundred years into the past, from a whole other solar system. I had no clue how I could have ended up back on the Ark, the one that still orbited above the earth.”

She met the other girl’s eyes and added, “That was until I remembered what you and Bellamy had set out to do that afternoon.”

Octavia nodded, following her train of thought, “The Anomaly.”

Raven jutted out her chin before she turned away, massaging the sides of her heavily bruised knee as she continued, “I remembered what you told us before you left. How you and Diyoza went inside but only one of you came out. You told us that Gabriel suspected that you were gone longer than it seemed. So, I wanted to see how time worked wherever or whenever I ended up, if I ended up in the same Ark or a completely different one altogether….”

-

_Raven hurried to get dressed, bouncing around on her brand new legs to get them into the holes of her leggings before sitting down on the edge of her bed to slip on her boots. She tugged on her red bomber jacket and threw her hair up into a simple ponytail before snatching up her tablet from her bedside table._

_Just as she turned to leave, her eyes caught the glint of the necklace she dropped on the bed. The metal bird stared back at her almost accusingly and she swallowed hard before spinning on her heel and walking out of her apartment._

_Closing the door behind her, she looked both ways down the hall before heading to Go-Sci, knowing that if anyone had the answers she was looking for, it would be one Dr. Abigail Griffin. If Clarke’s mom was here, and if she were the same Abby Raven once knew, then she would have the plans for the Dropship Mission to send the hundred kids from Skybox to the ground. _And the answers I need to figure out what to do next._ _

__

_Raven turned on the tablet in her hands and peered down at the time. It was 0900 hours and the time that most started their shift in Go-Sci, including the Ark Medical Station where Abby was supposed to be the senior medical officer._

__

_Key word: **Supposed**._

__

_As Raven turned the corner to the access point where Mecha Station met Go-Sci, two familiar figures walked out of the elevator._

__

_Raven stopped in her tracks. A crash sounded beneath her and she blinked down at the floor._

__

_Her tablet had slipped through her fingertips._

__

_She breathed out a curse under her lips and bent down to pick it up, momentarily surprised when her knee didn’t groan under her._

__

_That’s gonna take some getting used to, she thought to herself as she reached out towards the tablet on the floor, God, I hope it’s not broken._

__

_Before she could make contact with the tablet, a hand beat her to it._

__

_“Someone has butterfingers,” the owner of the hand chuckled from where they were crouched down in front of her, “Better get a doctor to take a look at that, wrench monkey. Wouldn’t want the youngest Zero-G mechanic to lose her chill now, would we?”_

__

_Raven’s head snapped up and met the amused brown eyes of Kyle Wick._

__

_“Oh, you have got to be kidding me,” she whispered, her own eyes wide as they stared up at her ex-lover and friend._

__

_“ **Rude** ,” Wick pouted, leaning back to hold her tablet high above his head as he got to his feet, “You know, I **was** going to give this back to you but now that I see you're being your usual sunny self, I think I just might keep it.”_

__

_Raven couldn’t believe it. Kyle frickin’ Wick, standing in front of her and making jokes like he hadn’t died in Praimfaya with the rest of the people who didn’t make it into the Second Dawn Bunker._

__

_A part of her wanted to reach out and pull him to her, just to make sure that he was real and not just a hallucination. Clarke had mentioned how she only survived having Josephine’s mind drive in her head because her brain created a structure where her consciousness was able to separate itself from Josephine’s. Considering that her and Abby had administered the tests on their only nightblood subject - Clarke’s own daughter - and had handed the last of it over as well as the only doctor who could replicate nightblood, Raven disregarded her skepticism and followed the advice of the other part of her._

__

_“You’re a dick, Wick,” Raven laughed, slugging the young man in the arm hard as she jumped up to try to get her tablet back, “You’re going to make me later than I already am!”_

__

_“She’s right,” another voice chimed in from behind them, amused exasperation coming out in a fatherly sigh._

__

_Raven stiffened from where she was leaning heavily on Wick, one foot on the ground while the other hung in the air behind her for balance. She peered over Wick’s shoulders and met the playful gaze of one Jacapo Sinclair._

__

_“Late again, Reyes?” her old mentor smiled at her with kind brown eyes and his head full of short, curly salt and pepper black hair, “If you keep this up, I just might have to replace you.”_

__

_Sinclair. It was fucking Sinclair._

__

_Her breath shuddered as she stared at the man she considered to be like a father to her._

__

_She could see it now like it was yesterday, the way his voice hitched in the pitch-black garage, the way her heart thudded loud as the lights turned on, and how fear soaked through her clothes as she crawled out of the Rover to where he had stood, holding his stomach as blood seeped from the stab wound Emerson had dealt him. He had collapsed onto the ground but still had enough energy to reach up with a gentle, wavering hand to her cheek, callous from age and many years working as an engineer._

__

_“Stay in the Rover. Just go back. Please. Please go back,” he had begged her, his words coming out in stuttered wheezes as his life drained out of him._

__

_When Finn was killed, she thought that she had lost all the family she had. Then Sinclair was murdered right in front of her and it forced her to think about everyone that she had been pushing away, everyone that had stood by her and had fought for her despite her turning them away._

__

_Sinclair was the reason she didn’t die in Becca’s lab. He was the reason they had all lived to see another day._

__

_Somehow, he was in front of her again. Not a hallucination from early stages of brain damage but alive and breathing._

__

_This must be one hell of a time paradox._

__

_“Ooooo, someone’s in trouble,” Wick sang in her ear, causing her to instinctively reach out and swat him away, “Careful now, Raven, you could be swatting your new replacement.”_

__

_“ **Please** ,” Raven cleared her throat, forcing an eye roll as she tried to hide the panic rising in her chest, “Like **you** would be able to keep up with the things I have to do on a daily basis. You’re an **engineer** , not a mechanic, Wick.”_

__

_“Like being a mechanic is in **any way** more important than what I have to do!”_

__

_“Before you both get carried away with who's better than who,” Sinclair interrupted them as Raven opened her mouth to bite back, “I feel like I need to remind you that you both have jobs that you're late for. Save it for another time, you two.”_

__

_It sounded so...like him. His voice was as warm as she remembered it and the smile that appeared on his face made her beam back, just like it used to. It took her a while to accept that family wasn’t something you were born into but something you made for yourself._

__

_This man was the reason she learnt that lesson._

__

_She would not take it for granted._

__

_Being as sly as she could, she slung an arm around Sinclair’s shoulders and dragged Wick alongside her, smiling wide to hide how her teeth shook and how her eyes had turned to glass the longer she looked at them both._

__

_“Well, gents, I’m going to be off before you do something stupid and **actually** replace me,” she joked before turning her head to stare up at her old mentor, “But first things first, do you know if Dr. Griffin is in this morning?”_

__

_“Abby? She should be. Why? Are you okay?” Sinclair questioned, cocking his head as he gazed down at her in concern._

__

_Raven reluctantly untangled herself out of the embrace she created and began to walk back towards the elevator the two men came out of._

__

_She waved him off, “Just going to have a girly chat with the good doctor.”  
_

__

_Sinclair nodded and let out an awkward chuckle in understanding. Wick whipped his head back and forth confused and was about to open his mouth to say something undoubtedly stupid when Sinclair put a hand on his shoulder._

__

_“Make sure to report in with Red, Reyes,” Sinclair told her before he headed down the hall._

__

_“Will do, sir,” she grinned, struggling to hold it as she hurried to the elevator._

__

_She hurriedly pressed the buttons, counting to ten in her head as the doors slowly closed. Once she was out of sight, she collapsed into the corner, her lower back banging against the back wall as she curled over herself. Her arms were braced on the walls on either side of her as she gasped, tears falling down her face as she cried out._

__

_He was **real**. Sinclair, Wick, they were both real. When she reached out to touch them, she met solid bodies. Warm, alive. They were alive and laughing and joking around. They weren’t touched by the horrors they found on earth nor were they scarred by the remnants of their deaths. _

__

_How is this possible? How is this possible? How is this possible?_

__

_Time paradox, alternate universe, multiverse theory._

__

_There was only one way to confirm to her that these people were her people._

__

-

__

“The timestamp on my monitor told me it was two weeks before the 13th of September,” Raven told Octavia, picking at the bandages around her injured leg. They were sufficient for now, effectively stopping the bleeding. 

__

Raven had recognized the healer who tended to her wounds as Nyko, a friend of Lincoln’s and a Grounder who had once aided Octavia back when they were up against the mountain. He was also the man who had faced down Finn, right before her boyfriend massacred half the village.

__

It had taken Raven a lot to sit still in the man’s presence but she found that with the absence of that experience, he was a kind-natured man and a healer at heart. Even though she was one of the invaders who had landed in his territory, he had treated her with the gentleness he would any other patient until the scouts had come to retrieve her.

__

He could only do so much for an enemy though and therefore had not attempted to make a brace, lest it aid in her escape. 

__

I’ll have to get Wick to make me a brace once we get out of here.

__

“13th of September - the day we were sent to the ground?”  


__

Raven nodded, going on to explain, “They would have to have at least a month to prepare for that sort of deployment. So, the only way to find out if I were dealing with a time paradox or an alternate reality altogether was to find out how much progress they had made with the mission to send you guys down or - “

__

“If such a mission had even been proposed,” Octavia finished the thought, nodding in understanding.

__

-

__

_When the elevator doors opened on the Go-Sci Ring, there was no evidence that Raven Reyes had just broken down. Instead, her tears had been wiped away and she stood with a straight back._

__

_Rolling her shoulders, she stepped out and made her way to the Ark Medical Station. Raven couldn’t help but glance down at her legs. It was something to get used to, not adjusting her posture to bring relief from the constant pain in her leg. There was no limp, nor was there any extra weight from her brace holding her down and she found herself walking faster than she had in years._

__

_Her relief aside, her lack of injury eliminated the likelihood of the alternate universe theory from her mind. If this was an alternate or parallel universe from her own, she would still be in her old body, limp and all. And there would be another version of her walking these halls._

__

_However, since she could safely say that she still retained the memories of the past while waking up in a body and time that is seemingly set before the Hundred landed on the ground, that could mean that she is looking at a time paradox, or time travel._

__

_Still, she needed to confirm that she had traveled back by seeing if there were any talks of sending the Hundred to the ground._

__

_Abby would have the answers, Raven told herself as she hurried along._

__

_She had just passed a section that was sealed off for maintenance when she froze. Raven frowned as she backtracked and peered at the empty hallway that led to the section under maintenance and felt her heart beat faster.  
_

__

_Earth Monitoring Station.  
_

__

_Before the Hundred were sent down, the Ark was ‘earth blind’ to any and all happenings occurring on the ground below. This was the reason why they had to send the Hundred to the ground so that they could see the effects the air and lingering radiation would have on the human body. If the Hundred survived, that meant the earth was survivable._

__

_She remembered trailing Abby and Jackson into this section back when she heard that Lockup was in quarantine due to the sudden breakout of a virus. Another bullshit excuse from the Council to cover up the fact they sent a hundred children down to their deaths, one that almost everyone knew to be exactly that: **a bullshit excuse.**  
_

__

_Raven, of course, was the only one with any real guts to confront them about it. When Abby lied to her in the Mess Hall that day, she had followed the senior medical officer and her assistant through the ducts and eavesdropped on their conversation to get to the bottom of what was really going on with the prisoners.  
_

__

_When they were discussing why the wristbands were showing up on the monitors that they were dead, it seemed obvious to Raven that the delinquents were taking the wristbands off.  
_

__

_Monitors, wristbands…  
_

__

_All of that equipment would need weeks in advance to be set up properly.  
_

__

_That means –  
_

__

_Raven glanced down both ends of the hallway to make sure no one was coming before ducking under the tape that sealed off the section. She crept silently down the abandoned section until she came across the entry to what she knew to be the Earth Monitoring Station. The doors were shut and were only accessible by a newly installed key code, one that she was sure she did not have access to.  
_

__

_She gritted her teeth and looked around for an opening when her eyes landed on an air duct, one that was presumably left open for construction and maintenance workers who were approved by the Council.  
_

__

_Raven’s mouth curled up in a wry grin as she approached the hole big enough for her to squeeze through.  
_

__

_Like old times, she thought to herself as she hefted herself up into the vent. She dragged her torso across the metal surface and lifted her legs up behind her. She crawled along slowly, listening out for any creaks or groans that might indicate that she was too heavy for the duct to support her movement.  
_

__

_When she heard none, she traveled along, following the ducts that led in through to the room that was sealed behind the two doors. She looked for the circular ventilation shaft that she had crawled down and sat in to listen to Abby and Jackson last time and found it at the end of the vent she was traveling along.  
_

__

_Hurrying, she climbed down the ladder and slowly lowered herself down onto the floor.  
_

__

_Raven approached the wall and squinted through the rectangular paneling that separated the ventilation shaft from the inside of the room. The last time she hid in the vents, only Jackson and Abby were in the room, rushing to figure out the reason the wristbands were showing no vital signs from the kids._

__

_Now, the room was milling with different Ark officers. In the center of the room, facing the far wall to watch as the monitors were installed, were three people. On the far left, was Councilmember Marcus Kane, clean-shaven and staring at the blank screens with a look of cold calculation. On the far right, was Councilmember and Senior Medical Officer Abigail Griffin, her hair braided to the side of her shoulder with a tablet in her hand, sending side-long glares at Kane. In the center, standing tall and proud with his hands behind his back, was Chancellor Thelonius Jaha who watched the people work around him, nodding in satisfaction as Abby gave him the progress report.  
_

__

_“We have twenty monitors, running and operational.”  
_

__

_“And the rest?” Jaha asked slowly, not taking his eyes off of the people around him.  
_

__

_Abby hesitated, looking up from her tablet before replying dismissively, “Sinclair left to check if there are any in Mecha station we can use.”  
_

__

_“And if he can’t find any?” Kane spoke up, turning his narrowed-eyed gaze from the wall to his fellow councilmember, “What will we do then?”  
_

__

_Abby didn’t hesitate to meet his glare and replied briskly, “It is not necessary to have a screen dedicated to every single one of the prisoners. If twenty monitors are all we have available, I am sure Sinclair can work the program to divide the screens. Five prisoners on each screen.”  
_

__

_Raven did the math. A hundred prisoners’ total. Her eyes widened and an excited grin grew on her face. The mission to send all one hundred prisoners to the ground was in progress. This proved that she was in the same reality.  
_

__

_She had travelled back in time.  
_

__

_From inside the room, Kane’s lips twitched in frustration, but he didn’t say anything to rebuke her solution and turned away to glare at the wall once more.  
_

__

_Raven smirked, giddy on her new discovery.  
_

__

_God, of course, I’m back in time. Look at the sexual tension between the two. Now, if they would have focused more of that tension on macking on one another instead of trying to get each other floated then maybe we would have found out the Hundred were alive much sooner the first time around.  
_

__

_The first time around. Did that mean that this was her second chance? Their second chance, to make things right? To make sure that humanity didn’t screw up and kill each other all over again? Did the Anomaly send her back so that she could right their past wrongs?  
_

__

_She could stop it. She said it before, she’ll say it again. She was a one-woman fucking army and if she had really traveled back in time with her memories of the future intact then she could stop it all from happening.  
_

__

_She just had to figure out how._  


__

-  


__

“You traveled back in time?” Octavia blinked at her, dumbfounded.  


__

A wry grin, similar to the one that she wore when she climbed those vents up in the Ark, appeared on Raven’s face.  


__

“Correction: It turns out that **we all** traveled back in time. All one hundred and two.”  


__

“ **How?** ” the other girl rasped, leaning forward with her arms braced on the ground beside her, dark brows furrowed low, “If it was caused by the Anomaly, then how is that the rest of the Hundred remember? And why did we only remember today? Why didn’t we wake up the same time as you, on the Ark?”  


__

Raven’s head fell against the wall at all the incessant questions the young Blake was throwing at her and she closed her eyes in an attempt to soothe the growing ache building up in her skull.  


__

“Those are some good questions you’re throwing out there, little Blake,” Raven murmured, unconsciously falling back on the nickname she made up for the girl back in the ole' dropship days.  


__

Octavia quietened down in surprise, and Raven rubbed her forehead, grateful for the sudden silence.  


__

“I don’t know and my experience on the Ark didn’t help me with finding the answers,” Raven blinked back the dark spots at the corners of her eyes and cursed under her breathe.  


__

If I have a fucking concussion, I am going to have a strong, non-aggressive, and non-war starting conversation with that Grounder backhanded me. And whoever is in charge of that fucking Anomaly.  


__

Raven released a tired sigh before repositioning herself so that she was sitting up straight.  


__

Octavia’s eyes flickered at the graze on the older girl’s forehead and her gaze softened imperceptibly.  


__

“Okay, then, how did 'Miss. One-Woman-Fucking-Army' get the rest of the Ark to the ground?”  


__

The sarcastic drawl had Raven’s lips curling up into a smirk and she rolled her head to meet Octavia’s eyes knowingly.  


__

“Easy. I confronted them.”  


__

-  


__

_Raven didn’t make the mistake of trying to leave like last time. She stayed there for half an hour and waited until Jaha, Abby and Kane left the room before climbing back up the vents and back out into the hallway outside of Earth Monitoring Station.  
_

__

_She checked to see if the coast was clear before lifting herself down onto the floor, landing with a quiet **oomph!** She hurried out of the hallway before someone could find her in a section that was supposed to be restricted off from public access and turned the corner, continuing on her way to her original destination: Ark Medical Station.  
_

__

_The line outside was unusually short. Raven had been expecting those sick from oxygen deprivation to be many, especially with time running out for the Ark. The Hundred had yet to be sent to the ground and therefore the sick should be twice as many as she found when she rounded the corner.  
_

__

_Raven took up a position as the fourth person in the line, behind a mother and her coughing child and an older man with a pronounced limp that made her leg twitch. She crossed her arms and leaned against the wall; her eyes narrowed on the plastic dividers that separated the hall from the medical station.  
_

__

_When Abby came out to bring the next person in, Raven didn’t move to cut in like she had last time. She couldn’t risk approaching her out in the open, not without arousing the suspicions of those out in the hall with them. Raven had plenty of experience with bad news creating mass hysteria in the past. She wouldn’t be the one to spawn it, not on the Ark where they were surrounded by nothing but space.  
_

__

_So, she waited patiently. She waited for the coughing child to be given a breathing mask and instructions on if any fluid came up to come back for another check-up. She waited for the man with the limp to be given instructions to rest up and that if the swelling didn’t go down, they would take another look.  
_

__

_Raven waited until Abby finally came out and locked eyes with her.  
_

__

_The older woman looked her over, eyes narrowed in consideration, probably trying to deduce why she was there, before extending her arm out to invite her in.  
_

__

_Raven followed her, pushing her way through the plastic dividers. Abby walked over to the metal table holding her equipment and told her over her shoulder, “Take a seat on the chair for me, please.”  
_

__

_Raven did as she was told, her lips quirking up into a small smile as nostalgia took hold. It was nice to see the doctor as bossy and as focused as ever. She hadn’t seen her like that since – well, since before Praimfaya.  
_

__

_Abby turned, tablet in hand and sat down across from her, “What’s your name?”  
_

__

_“Raven Reyes.”  
_

__

_“Age?”  
_

__

_“19.”  
_

__

_“Station?”  
_

__

_“Mecha.”  
_

__

_The woman typed this onto the tablet and nodded her head as her profile came up on the screen. She typed a few more things while Raven watched her with soft eyes and a matching smile.  
_

__

_Abby finally placed her tablet on her lap and leaned forward with kind, appraising eyes.  
_

__

_“What can I do for you today, Raven?”  
_

__

_“On the record: I need my birth control implant replaced,” Raven scoffed, flicking her wrist at the idea, “Off the record: I want to volunteer.”  
_

__

_The doctor paused from where she had been typing in the details onto her tablet and glanced up at her with a frown, “Volunteer? What do you mean?”  
_

__

_“I want to volunteer to be sent to the ground, instead of the prisoners in Lockup.”  
_

__

_Abby flinched back, her brown eyes widening slightly. She cocked her head to the side as if she didn’t know what to make of the girl in front of her and slid her hand to the comms device. Raven glanced at her hand but didn’t make a move to stop her and instead she smiled knowingly as Abby pressed the button and said, “Jackson. I need you to come into the Med Bay **right now**. Something has come up with the Exodus Project.”  
_

__

_Jackson didn’t reply and the two women stared at one another in silence until he arrived five minutes later, not from the main hall but from the adjacent room. He peeked his head around the door, his brows furrowing slightly when he saw Raven glancing at him from over her shoulder.  
_

__

_“Abby?” he asked, a bit uncertain as to what was going on.  
_

__

_“Jackson, this is Raven. She has just volunteered to participate in the Exodus Project.”  
_

__

_“WHAT?! Was there a leak?! How many other people know? Abby – the Council – “  
_

__

_“No one else knows,” Raven informed them with a smirk, “No one needs to know, as long as it works.”  
_

__

_A small, intrigued smile appeared on Abby’s lips as she told the girl in front of her, “I think the more important question is how do **you** know about the Exodus Project?”  
_

__

_“Let’s just say that if you’re going to seal a level off in Go-Sci of all places, you shouldn’t be surprised when someone comes along curious enough to check it out,” Raven shrugged, rolling her shoulders casually, “Also, you might want to close that open ventilation shaft in the outside hallway. Anyone can just get in there and move around, you know?”  
_

__

_Scoffing slightly at her audacity, Jackson leaned down to mutter to Abby, “Shouldn’t we be calling security or something?”  
_

__

_Abby smirked, “Not yet. I want to hear what she has to say.”  
_

__

_While Jackson stared down at his senior officer in shock, Raven returned Abby’s smirk and shrugged, “What is there to say? A one-person mission is less risky, more efficient, and a hell of a more hush-hush than sending a whole Exodus ship down full of **children**. I gathered that was what you guys on the Council were going for when you approved of this mission, right? Well, I’m your girl.”  
_

__

_“Why would you volunteer to go down, though?” Jackson questioned, still confused as to what her motives were. However, Abby was looking at her with narrowed eyes and the kind of smile one wore when they understood someone’s motives so well because they almost mirrored their own.  
_

__

_“You have someone in Lockup, don’t you?”  
_

__

_Raven’s lips tightened a bit, but she shrugged it off, looking away. Let them think that she was just a girl in love, that her mission was that simple. It was before, she could let them believe it was the case again, “So, what if I do? A lot of people do. Parents, friends. We all have someone in there that we care about. Wouldn’t you agree, Councilmember?”  
_

__

_Abby was silent for a moment before humming vaguely, neither denying or confirming the girl’s statement.  
_

__

_“Say that the Council approves this, how would you be getting down to Earth? We can’t spare an Exodus ship made for a hundred people for a one-person trip.”  
_

__

_Raven quirked her brow at that before murmuring, “There’s a rumor that there’s an old escape pod salvaged from Mir-3, back in 2102, just sitting pretty and useless in one of the old maintenance bays on Mecha.”  
_

__

_Leaning forward with her hands braced against her thighs, Raven gave the doctor a mischievous smirk before offering, “What if I told you I can get her up and running within the next week or so?”  
_

__

_Abby pursued her lips before nodding her head in resolve.  
_

__

_“I think the Council would be interested in hearing your offer.”_  


__

-  


__

“I assume that if we’re all down here, the Council actually accepted what you had to say,” Octavia mused in a low voice, snorting softly under her breath, “That’s a first.”  


__

“I admit, I thought they would tell me to go float myself or something along those lines but then Abby took front and center, and suddenly everything – “  


__

“Made sense?”  


__

Raven scoffed, shrugging her shoulders, “I guess it runs in the family.”  


__

Octavia smirked, leaning her head back against the wall as she muttered, “Like mother, like daughter.”  


__

-  


__

_Raven left the Medical Station fifteen minutes later after agreeing to meet Abby in Alpha outside the Council Chamber where they would stand in front of the Chancellor and the other members to put forward their proposition.  
_

__

_Raven made it back to Mecha and reported in with Red, who rolled his eyes at her excuses for being late and quickly ushered her into her suit so that she could begin her spacewalk. As soon as the airlock doors opened, all thoughts of the meeting had left her mind as gravity disappeared and surrendered her to the whims of space.  
_

__

_If anyone asked her what her favorite thing to do in the world was, she would always answer flying through space. Throughout the years, when such a thing became impossible for her to do, her answer always remained the same.  
_

__

_The ground was beautiful and the experience of seeing a whole other planet was definitely one for the books but they were marred with the memories of what she suffered on both Earth and Sanctum.  
_

__

_Nothing could ruin the memory, the experience, the sheer emotion she felt when floating through space.  
_

__

_Back in the dropship, she used to hear people call Finn “Spacewalker.” He had explained that in Lockup, they gave him that nickname because some of them thought it was cool and fitting for the guy that wasted months on an illegal spacewalk.  
_

__

_Only a few people knew the truth. Bellamy, Clarke, Murphy, Abby – it was a short list.  
_

__

_She was the real Spacewalker, and she gave it up to be with the boy she loved on the Earth below.  
_

__

_Just like he had given up his freedom so that she could do the thing she loved most.  
_

__

_She had forced those memories, those feelings into a dark, dark corner in the back of her mind and focused on the feeling of losing control to the dark space outside the Ark. Full of stars and the never-ending.  
_

__

_Time flew by and before she knew it, it was 1500 Ark Time and she was landing softly on the airlock as the doors closed behind her and Red worked to regain the pressure in the room. She had wasted no time in small talk and questions and practically ran to Alpha.  
_

__

_Abby was standing by the doors, waiting for her with her arms crossed over her chest. A heavy sigh of relief worked its way out of her chest at the sight of the girl walking towards her and her arms fell to her side.  
_

__

_“You’re late,” the doctor said as she turned towards the keypad on the wall.  
_

__

_“I work on the other side of the damn Ark, Doc,” Raven argued, shoving her hands into the pockets of her red bomber jacket.  
_

__

_She saw a ghost of a smile on the older woman’s face when she replied, “The Council won’t see it that way.”  
_

__

_“Well, we’ll just have to distract them with my super awesome plan so they’ll forget then,” Raven responded as the doors opened to reveal the room within._

__

_She waited until Abby walked in before following her, her brows raising as she looked around the room.  
_

__

_It was dark, illuminated only by the blue light from the center of the circular table but from what she could see, the room was pretty bare. On the ground, it was brighter from the sunlight that filtered in from gaps in vents and roofing and it was usually full of maps and other pieces of information they needed, including rationing boards, pages full of names of the clans nearby, and the comm channels of patrols out doing rotations in the territory deemed safe.  
_

__

_Raven blinked back the sudden merging of the two images and focused on the one in front of her. The circular table in the middle of the room was surrounded by seven people. In the middle, directly across the table from where she and Abby stood, was Chancellor Jaha. To his right was Marcus Kane and to his left was Charles Pike. Three others surrounded the table, leaving the seat closest to the two newcomers empty for the last Council member.  
_

__

_“You’re late,” Jaha repeated Abby’s sentiment from before, his tone slow and giving away nothing.  
_

__

_“We apologize. Raven just got off her shift,” Abby explained, sending a dry ‘I told you so’ look at the girl beside her. Raven bit back her grin and turned to the table.  
_

__

_“Yes, **why** is she here?” Kane cocked his head in mock perplexity, “She has not been cleared for authorization nor has she been granted permission to attend a council meeting.”  
_

__

_Damn, Raven thought to herself as she raised her brow at the older man, I forgot what a dick Kane was back then. Now. Whatever.  
_

__

_“I granted her permission, Kane. May I remind you that you are not the only member of this council?”  
_

__

_Meow, Raven smirked internally as she watched the two adults glare at each other, I forgot what a rebel Abby was back then. Now. Whatever.  
_

__

_Before the rival Council members could go at it, Jaha spoke up, “Enough. Abby, explain yourself.”  
_

__

_Abby straightened up and inclined her head, “Members of the Council. Raven Reyes joins us today to put forward the proposition that we halt all efforts on the first phase of Project Exodus in order to re-examine the necessity of sending the hundred prisoners in Lockup.”  
_

__

_Kane let out a dry, disbelieving chuckle abruptly, “The necessity? You should know full well the necessity – “  
_

__

_“I wasn’t finished,” Abby snapped at him, cutting him off as he did her, “As I was saying, we would like to re-examine the necessity of sending the hundred prisoners in Lockup and instead consider sending one willing volunteer to the ground, Raven herself.”  
_

__

_Raven held her breath as all eyes turned on her. She was familiar with some of the looks she was getting. She knew the judgment, the incredulity, the derisiveness – it was like looking at an old friend. A terrible, abusive, nauseating friend that you thought you left behind you.  
_

__

_She hadn’t seen looks like these since she was a young child, back when she would peek outside the door of the small apartment her and her mother had lived in and catch people looking away in disgust as they walked past. She understood, in the way small children understood, why they looked at her and her mother like that. Their apartment was dirty, littered with bottles and bottles of moonshine and the whole place smelt like booze and human filth.  
_

__

_It was only when she was older that she realized why the place looked like that, why day after day after day the bottles of moonshine multiplied, and why her mother never bothered to clean them up. Why she had to skip meals sometimes and why she was often dumped at the Collin’s place for the night.  
_

__

_Raven had grown up though. She was no longer that kid who ran errands for Nygel and had to pay off her mother’s debts after the woman drank herself to death. She made a name for herself, made a career for herself.  
_

__

_For years, Raven had only been seen as someone who could help. She was vital, a person essential for the survival and wellbeing of, well, the human race. She was the person that everyone looked to, even Clarke and Bellamy, who were almost always put in charge.  
_

__

_If these assholes think they can look down their nose at me and ruin any chance of the human race surviving past a few years, then they have another thing coming.  
_

__

_Raven stepped forward, “Councilmembers. I understand you have doubts about my qualifications for such a mission. But I’m going to respectfully tell you that they are stupid doubts and you’ll need to cut that shit out if you want any hope of the Ark seeing the ground again.”  
_

__

_From beside her, Abby lunged forward, gripping her shoulder warningly, “ **Raven** – “  
_

__

_“No, Abby,” Raven shook her off, scowling, “I’m not going to sugar coat this stuff to people that have the responsibility to hear the truth, no matter how much they don’t want to hear it.”  
_

__

_Turning away from the woman by her side, Raven met the curious eyes of Jaha and began again, “As I told Dr. Griffin earlier when I approached her about my proposition, sending down one willing volunteer with a radio offers less risk and is more efficient in the overall goal of Project Exodus: to see if the ground is survival so that we can start sending people down.”  
_

__

_Raven looked around at the table and felt her shoulders drop as she sighed, “I know the Ark is dying. People are suffering from the effects of oxygen deprivation as we speak and it has only been made worse by the waste of three months’ worth of oxygen by the illegal spacewalk that took place last year.”  
_

__

_She looked away at that, guilt burning on her face. She was responsible for the illegal spacewalk, a crime that she never paid for. It was either irony or poetic justice that she was volunteering to be sent down to the ground, the same fate that was assigned to those in the Skybox.  
_

__

_Maybe, it was her time to pay the price.  
_

__

_Looking up, she continued on, “If I can get on the ground within the next week or so and get confirmation that the ground is survivable, no one has to die.”  
_

__

_Abby stepped forward, with her hands braced on the table, and told her fellow councilmembers, “There is an escape pod in one of the maintenance bays in Mecha. Raven is experienced enough in both engineering and mechanics that I’m confident she can rebuild the pod so that it is suited for re-entry with little to no damage.”  
_

__

_The woman looked over at Kane and narrowed her eyes as her tone took a forceful edge, “Not to mention that she would be a willing participant who would be able to observe the level of radiation, enough so that she can make a judgment on whether or not it is survivable. We will send her down with one of the wristbands we created for the kids in order to read her vital signs, which will either collaborate or contradict her final decision.”  
_

__

_“And if she dies?” Jaha spoke up, turning to look Raven in the eye, “Are you willing to die should it be discovered that the earth is not survivable?”  
_

__

_Raven cracked a grin, “From what I’m hearing, Chancellor, we’re all going to die. I rather die on the off chance that the ground is survivable rather than die knowing for certain that oxygen will run out in a matter of months.”  
_

__

_Jaha lifted his chin, “I see. We will put it to a vote. Council members, please be seated.”  
_

__

_Abby joined the rest of the Council at the table and Raven stepped back so that she was standing against the wall. She crossed her arms over her chest and raised a brow at them, waiting to see what they would decide.  
_

__

_“All of those in favour of the proposition Miss Reyes and Dr. Griffin have put forward, please say Aye.”  
_

__

_Abby, Pike and one other raised their hands and declared, “Aye.”  
_

__

_“All of those opposed?”  
_

__

_“Nay,” Kane didn’t hesitate to respond, followed by two others. The dark-haired man’s brow twitched in irritation as his head swung to his right where the Chancellor sat and he declared softly, almost as if he hated to say it, “Three votes in favor, three votes opposed. It is a tie and therefore it is left to the Chancellor to break it.”  
_

__

_Jaha closed his eyes and let out a deep breath, looking away from Kane to meet Abby’s eyes from across the table. His gaze flickered up to meet Raven’s from where she leaned against the wall and the girl jutted out her chin defiantly, trying to force her determination and her confidence in her proposal into her expression.  
_

__

_The Chancellor nodded and his decision was made, “Aye. Raven Reyes has two weeks to fix the escape pod, make the drop to the ground and confirm the survivability of Earth’s surface.”  
_

__

_With that, the Council was dismissed and quickly started to make their way out of the room. Raven stepped off to the side as Abby rose up from her seat and approached Jaha, who was muttering in low, tense tones with Kane at his side from across the room.  
_

__

_As Abby neared to talk to the Chancellor, Kane tore away from the two and stormed off to the door.  
_

__

_Raven was deep in her thoughts, trying to do a mental check over everything she would need to rebuild the pod. Now that she had the Council’s approval, she wouldn’t have to be on a time crunch to complete it all within a couple of days and had fourteen, which was more than enough for her.  
_

__

_The pressure regulator, though, would give her trouble. Even with the Council’s permission to use the maintenance bay and equipment to build the pod, they wouldn’t have all the necessary pieces for deployment.  
_

__

_As much as she hated it, it seemed as if she would have to go back to the same person as before.  
_

__

_**Nygel.**  
_

__

_Everyone on the Ark, no matter how high or low their stations, knew about Nygel. They knew that if you wanted something, moonshine, rations, Nygel was the person you went to. But moonshine and rations were kids’ stuff compared to what Nygel could **actually** access.  
_

__

_The higher the risk, the higher the cost.  
_

__

_Nobody knew where she got all the shit, but everyone knew that she was the only person who could get it. And the only person who has never been caught.  
_

__

_Raven remembered a conversation with Abby from around this time before the Anomaly. Something Abby had told her that made her turn and rush out the doors after the Council member who just left.  
_

__

_“You went to Nygel? Kane’s been trying to get her for years.”  
_

__

_Raven sprinted down the hallway and turned the corner in time to see Kane heading down the hallway to the residential area, presumably to return to his apartment.  
_

__

_“Council member!” she called after him. The man’s shoulders stiffened as he looked over his shoulder to frown at her. She jogged over to him, looking around to see if there was anyone around who would overhear them before looking up at him, “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about, sir.”  
_

__

_“Yes?”  
_

__

_She glanced over her shoulder once more. It was best to be careful, who knew who Nygel had in her pocket.  
_

__

_“Sir, I know that you are against this plan but I have an idea on how to make it worth your while.”  
_

__

_“Are you trying to bribe me, Miss Reyes?”  
_

__

_“No, I am offering to help you with something you’ve struggled with for years.”  
_

__

_Kane gave a little scoff, crossing his arms over his chest, “What would that be?”  
_

__

_Raven smirked, “Catching Nygel.”_  


__

-  


__

From beside her, Octavia’s arms stiffened, and her fingers curled up into her palms.  


__

“Nygel?”  


__

Raven nodded before explaining, “Like I said, on the Ark, if you wanted something, Nygel would get it. Higher the risk – “  


__

“Higher the cost,” Octavia finished in a quiet whisper, “Did – did people sometimes pay in sex?”  


__

A ball of bile formed in Raven’s throat and she croaked out, “Yeah. How did you know?”  


__

“My mom,” the other girl rasped out, looking down at her white-knuckled fists, “I think my mom knew her. She wanted to keep me safe and to do that, she wanted to get Bellamy into the guardsmen so that he would know when there would be surprise inspections. She – she had an arrangement with one of the inspectors – “  


__

“Grus?” Raven prompted, her eyes softening in understanding.  


__

Octavia’s head whipped up and she nodded, “Yeah, I think that was his name. Do you know him?”  


__

A small, dry smirk curled up on Raven’s lips as she told the girl beside her, “Let’s just say that the deal with Kane paid off.”  


__

-  


__

_The man had tried to play it off as nonchalant curiosity, but Raven knew she had him hooked. She had explained her plan to go to Nygel to get the pressure regulator needed for the drop to the ground, offering her in exchange to steal morphine from the medical station – with Abby’s knowledge, of course.  
_

__

_Once Nygel procured the pressure regulator and Raven checked to see if it was usable – as she had learned in the past, Nygel was all too willing to give her faulty machinery in an effort to put her in her place – they would then commence with the trade. Kane would come in and see the pass off of morphine and arrest her.  
_

__

_When Kane asked her why she wanted to turn in Nygel, Raven’s mind briefly flickered back to the memory of all those bottles of moonshine littering the floor, of the nights gone by where her stomach growled due to not having eaten in days and the feel of her mother dragging her along and dumping her off at the Collins’ front door.  
_

__

_She remembered finding her mother’s body, curled up on her dirty, brown mattress, her skinny, frail hands curled around the neck of her last bottle of moonshine. The last time she had seen her mother.  
_

__

_“That bitch has taken everything from people like me. It’s time that people like me take everything away from people like her.”  
_

__

_It seemed that resonated with Kane because he didn’t question her motives more. They agreed that Raven would approach Nygel with the trade at 1300 the next day, while the Council would be in session. That morning she would meet with him and Sinclair at her station before her shift and go over what she needed to say.  
_

__

_They had gone their separate ways after that, and Raven had made her way to Mess Hall where everyone gathered to take their dinner. She briefly passed Sinclair, who checked in on her to see how she was doing before he joined Abby and Jackson at their table. She saw Wick sitting beside Red and Don and made her way over with her tray, taking a seat beside Wick, who smirked and proceeded to rib her about that morning.  
_

__

_“Yeah, yeah, shut up,” Raven swatted him away, picking at her rations as her mind went over everything she needed to prepare for the next day.  
_

__

_Across the table, Don leaned forward, twirling his fork between his fingers as he gave her a smirk, “So, Visitor’s Day is coming up? You excited to see Loverboy again?”  
_

__

_The fork that she had been holding froze between her mouth and her plate, and her jaw dropped at the unexpected question. She didn’t know why she didn’t expect it. She honestly should have. The boys at work had always teased her about Finn and they knew how much she had loved him.  
_

__

_For a whole year, it had been the best part of her month, when Visitor’s Day rolled around. It had been the one thing she looked forward to, the one thing she worked towards. Seeing him, being with him.  
_

__

_But that was a long, long time ago.  
_

__

_She was saved from answering her colleague when Red scoffed, “You are too invested in teenage drama, Don. Maybe you should focus more on your own relationship? Oh wait – “  
_

__

_Don shoved his shoulder and soon, Raven’s relationship was forgotten in favour of reminding Don about his lack of one, despite being almost thirty.  
_

__

_Raven let out a small sigh of relief and returned back to food, thankful that she wouldn’t have to answer the question.  
_

__

_That she wouldn’t have to lie.  
_

__

_She didn’t know what was worse, the lie she didn’t have to tell or the truth that she couldn’t say out loud._  


__

-  


__

_The next day, Raven headed to her shift like usual, a small grin playing on her mouth at the ease in which she fell back into routine. She could almost trick herself into believing that this was just another normal day on the Ark, that the ground was just a dead thing below them that she would never see in her lifetime.  
_

__

_But then she walked into the airlock bay and found Kane leaning against the wall. Sinclair was beside him, giving the Council member a dry glare before turning to her, his eyes softening. The tension between the two was apparent but soon dissipated as their attention turned to preparing her for the meeting with Nygel.  
_

__

_Before she left for Factory station, Sinclair had pulled her aside with a hand on her shoulder as he asked, “Are you sure about this?”  
_

__

_Raven raised a brow and scoffed, “Doubting my skills, Sinclair?”  
_

__

_He gave her a gentle smile, “Of course not. If anyone can pull this off, it’s you.”  
_

__

_“Then trust me when I say that I got this,” she reassured him, clasping the hand on her shoulder, and giving it a squeeze, “Have I ever let you down?”  
_

__

_“Never.”  
_

__

_She walked into the elevator smiling.  
_

__

_Raven took the shortest route to one of the lower levels of Factory, where Nygel preferred to hold her business meetings without the shadow of Alpha looming over her.  
_

__

_Raven was passing through Section B-17 when one of the apartment doors flew open to her left and a guardsman stormed out. He had dark hair and Asian features, with a self-satisfied smirk etched onto his thin lips. She stared at him as he disappeared down the hall, wondering why he seemed familiar when out of the same room stormed Bellamy Blake.  
_

__

_She practically tripped over herself, coming to a standstill. Bellamy Blake, one of her best friends, pushed past her without a glance her way, a deep, familiar scowl marring his face as he headed in the opposite direction as the guardsmen who walked out.  
_

__

_Her head whipped between them in confusion, wondering why Bellamy of all people was having secret, not-so-fun confrontations with a guardsman when at this point in time, he was conspiring to assassinate Jaha.  
_

__

_She remembered when she first came down, radio missing and thinking that she had cost three hundred people with her lack of preparation. Then Clarke told her Bellamy had the radio. She remembered how the blonde girl took off and how they found him through the trees, strolling like he didn’t have a care in the world.  
_

__

_“Bellamy Blake? They’re looking everywhere for you.”  
_

__

_“Shut up,” He had barely spared her a half-hearted glare before turning back to Clarke. Typical. Even back then, he couldn’t help but look at Clarke.  
_

__

_She remembered the fiercessness in which the blonde girl had shoved him aside to get to Raven, “Looking for him why?”  
_

__

_“He shot Chancellor Jaha.”  
_

__

_It took her a while to realize that he didn’t do it out of revenge or for the hell of it. Clarke realized it before anyone else.  
_

__

_“You always did what you had to do to protect your sister,” the blonde had told him in a soft, earnest voice. The two had exchanged looks at that moment that made Raven feel like she was intruding on something that wasn’t meant to be witnessed by outsiders.  
_

__

_Raven would find out days later that a guardsman had used Octavia to get Bellamy to the dirty work of a mutineer named Diana Sydney. She barely remembered the Chancellor who was in office before Jaha, but from the sounds of things, she fancied herself a real ‘voice of the people’.  
_

__

_Honestly, she kind of sounded like a bitch, blowing up kids and slitting the wrists of her own people.  
_

__

_What was his name? He was a commander…  
_

__

_She had seen a glimpse of the front of the guardsmen’s uniform when he walked past her. On his vest, stitched in mint condition, she remembered seeing the surname: Shumway.  
_

__

_Commander Shumway.  
_

__

_Raven’s eyes flew open wide. Shit, that’s gotta be the guy who put him up to it!  
_

__

_Whipping her head in the direction Bellamy stormed off to, she started off in a sprint, making a sharp turn just in time to see him walking down the empty corridor with his shoulders slouched and his head bowed in thought.  
_

__

_“Blake!” she called out to him, running up behind his retreating figure.  
_

__

_She heard him let out a sigh as he turned around, his brows furrowing low in a confused frown as he saw her. There was no recognition in his eyes and Raven had to push the burning disappointment aside to look back up at him.  
_

__

_“Can I help you?”  
_

__

_With his hair gelled back and his face clean-shaven, Bellamy Blake looked young, like a boy finally emerging into manhood rather than the sad, battle-hardened man she had come to call her best friend and brother.  
_

__

_Despite his youthful appearance, his voice came out low, gruff and tired. It hurt her heart to hear him sound so…like himself yet look so young.  
_

__

_But she had to put that aside for now, if she wanted to give him any chance to make life easier on himself.  
_

__

_Or as easy as it can get when the ground was the final destination.  
_

__

_“I need to talk to you.”  
_

__

_“Mind telling me who you are first?” he sounded bored, uninterested, already looking away from her like he was searching for a way to get out of the conversation.  
_

__

_She resisted the urge to smirk.  
_

__

_“I’m the one trying to stop you from making a huge mistake, buddy,” she replied in a sharp, knowing voice that had him whipping his head towards her faster than she could blink. This time, the smirk weaseled itself onto her lips and she didn’t make a huge effort to make it disappear, “That’s right. So, do you want to talk out here in the open or somewhere a bit more private?”  
_

__

_His lips tightened and he nodded, glancing over her head at the hall where she had just come from before jerking his chin, “Follow me.”  
_

__

_Raven rolled her eyes, “Now we’re going places. Lead the way.”  
_

__

_She followed him back to the room she first saw him come out of it and looked around. It was bare, with little belongings strewn around. There was a mop and bucket in the corner and a broom beside them. A cot was shoved in the other corner, leaving the rest of the room sparse. She frowned.  
_

__

_“You just moved in?”  
_

__

_Bellamy threw her a glare, “What do you want?”  
_

__

_Straight to the point then, Raven pulled a face. She could work with that.  
_

__

_“Alright. So, I guess Shumway approached you about the job he wants you to do?”  
_

__

_“What do you know about it?” he demanded through gritted teeth.  
_

__

_“Only that he wants you to kill Jaha,” she lied, shrugging it off, “In exchange, he’s guaranteeing you a place on the dropship they plan to send down to the ground.”  
_

__

_Bellamy scoffed, before drawling sarcastically, “Right. You mean, the one with the kids in it?”  
_

__

_Raven’s lips twitched up in a humorless smile, “We both know you only care about one of them. Your sister, Octavia. You kill Jaha, Shumway makes sure that you see her again. Have I got the gist of it?”  
_

__

_“You know you do,” Bellamy threw back at her with a sneer, prowling up to her to get right in his face as he repeated, “What are you gonna do about it?”  
_

__

_“I’m not going to tell the higher-ups, if that’s what you mean,” Raven let out a little laugh, circling around him to take a seat on his cot. She braced her arms on her legs and leaned forward, glancing up at him with a smile, “I’m just here to tell you that the plans changed.”  
_

__

_His whole back stiffened up at the statement, his voice coming out as a whisper that was hard to hear with him facing away from her, “What?”  
_

__

_She rolled his shoulders casually, “Yep. Change of plans. The hundred aren’t being sent to the ground.”  
_

__

_Raven stood up and placed a hand on her hip, “I am.”  
_

__

_“You?” Bellamy snorted, turning around to face her, “And…who are you, exactly?”  
_

__

_“Raven. Also known as the chick who’s trying to stop you from taking a rotten ass deal.”  
_

__

_“Why do you care?” he shot back at her, shoving his hands into his pockets, “Got the hots for Jaha or something?”  
_

__

_“Don’t be gross,” Raven screwed up her face at him. Bellamy smirked back at her, glad to finally wrangle a less-than-confident reaction from her. She gave him a dry look, “Everyone will be on the ground within the month. And if you want a spot on the same dropship as your sister, you’ll forget Shumway and avoid him and anyone coming to you with a deal like his.”  
_

__

_Bellamy narrowed his eyes at her and took a step forward, “When is this all happening?”  
_

__

_Raven’s lips twitched up, “I’m fixing up an old escape pod that’s been sitting in the maintenance bay. I plan to have her up and ready for the drop in a week. If I die, then everyone dies. If I live and the ground is survivable, I expect the Ark will come down the same day or the day after.”  
_

__

_“You’re being pretty blasé for someone talking about her possible death.”  
_

__

_She shrugged with the same attitude he was referring to.  
_

__

_“I gotta be. Now, you’ll shut your mouth, yeah?”  
_

__

_He shook his head, giving her a half-hearted glare, “Yeah, yeah. I won’t say anything.”  
_

__

_“Good. If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got places to be. A hundred- and thirty-year old escape pod won’t fix itself up, you know?”  
_

__

_Raven walked past him and headed for the door, pushing the button to open it. Just as she was about to head out, Bellamy called out her name.  
_

__

_“Something else you wanna say, Blake?” she glanced over her shoulder at him, a brow raised expectantly.  
_

__

_For the first time in their entire exchange, there was something vulnerable in his face as he looked down at his shoes.  
_

__

_“Can you – “ he began, pausing a bit as if he was unsure. He took a deep breath before looking up to meet her eyes as he asked, “Can you get a message to my sister for me? Can you tell her that I’m sorry?”  
_

__

_Raven’s smile dropped. She gave him a soft, understanding look before nodding once, “I’ll see what I can do.”  
_

__

_With that, she walked out and let the doors shut behind her. Her shoulders dropped as she let out her breath before she steeled herself and headed to the lower levels of Factory. The talk with Bellamy had worn down her confidence and now she was left with a tired, aching feeling in her chest.  
_

__

_He was so different, so unsure. The man she knew always stood with the knowledge of what his next move would be, whether it be right or wrong. He knew he was a leader, knew his responsibilities and although he struggled from time to time, he always got back up and kept moving. She watched him do it after they left the Mountain, after Clarke left Arkadia, after they left Clarke to die in Praimfaya, and after they thought Clarke had been murdered by the Primes.  
_

__

_He kept moving forward but the Bellamy she glimpsed in that small, sparse little room was one who was stuck. His sister was in prison. His mother was dead. He was – a janitor or a cleaner or someone that wasn’t the leader of a hundred juvenile prisoners at one point in time.  
_

__

_It hurt to see him like that and it unwittingly shook her own certainty in the position she held now.  
_

__

_But then she remembered that just because he wasn’t that man now, didn’t mean that he wasn’t there somewhere, buried deep down under the machine hum and the tangle of politics and social classes that made up the Ark.  
_

__

_She needed to keep moving forward for him, for herself and for all their friends and family in the Skybox.  
_

__

_So, when she got off the elevator on the level Nygel conducted her business, her face was set in a stoic scowl and her brows were flat as she gave a cursory, dismissive look at the service being held to honor the Last Tree and headed straight for the back room.  
_

__

_Raven rounded the corner like a woman on a mission, only to be stopped by a long, beefy arm belonging to a huge, bald guy with a thick, bushy beard. She recognized him as Nygel’s regular muscle which meant that the woman herself was definitely close by.  
_

__

_“This room is reserved for today,” he informed her in a menacing tone.  
_

__

_The girl cast a disgusted look at the arm blocking her path, “I’m not here for the room. I’m here to **trade**.”  
_

__

_The man opened his mouth to protest and Raven rolled her eyes. Shoving his arm aside, she got up in his face and snarled at him, “Before you tell me I’m in the wrong place, just let Nygel know that it’s her Little Bird.”  
_

__

_Before the bile in her throat could even set at the use of her old nickname, the door to the room opened and a middle-aged, dark-skinned woman walked in, drying her elegant hands on a hand towel. Her maroon-colored lips curled up into a cat-like smile and her dark eyes appraised the girl that stood before her in a way that was all too satisfied for Raven’s liking.  
_

__

_Jokes on you, bitch. I know your game, and this is the last time I’m going to play it.  
_

__

_“Well, well, well. How long has it been, Little Bird?” Nygel cooed, throwing the hand towel on the table beside her.  
_

__

_“It’s been a while,” she replied, glaring at the man, and shoving her hands into her jacket pockets as she strolled over to the woman, jutting out her chin in greeting, “I’m here to trade.”  
_

__

_“But of course,” Nygel spread out her hands, “Trade is my specialty after all.”  
_

__

_Nygel took a seat behind a white table in the corner and grinned up at her, “What can I do for you, Raven?”  
_

__

_With a pointed look at the man hovering over them, Raven pulled out the chair across from Nygel and sat down, “I heard that you don’t move machinery anymore.”  
_

__

_“Where would you be hearin’ that from?” Nygel cocked her head in interest, “Not that they’re wrong. I’m running a business, though, that runs on the discretion of others. It wouldn’t do anyone good, let alone my patrons, for it to be getting around.”  
_

__

_Right, her patrons. Raven let out a dry, humorless laugh before bracing her arms on the table, leaning forward to murmur, “Just because you don’t move machinery, doesn’t mean you can’t. Just tell me what it will cost.”  
_

__

_“Depends. What do you need?”  
_

__

_“A pressure regulator.”  
_

__

_The woman sat back, her brows lifting in mock confusion, “What for?”  
_

__

_Raven couldn’t resist giving her a deadpan look, “Regulating pressure.”  
_

__

_Nygel barked out laughing, “That’s good. I see you’ve got your mom’s sense of humour.”  
_

__

_The muscles in her jaw ticked in irritation. Ignoring the spike of anger that appeared at the reference to the woman who gave birth to her, Raven pushed on,_

__

_“What do you want for it?”  
_

__

_The dark skinned woman clicked her tongue at her and offered in a patronizing tone, “How about settling for some herb and moonshine like everybody else?”  
_

__

_Raven leaned against the desk as she gave Nygel a knowing look, “Because I know better. Save it for someone who doesn’t and just tell me what it’s going to take.”  
_

__

_Nygel’s eyes flared, seeing only a desperate fly who flew into her web made of the leftovers of a failed system. Raven almost scoffed at the eagerness she saw in the woman’s gaze, but she didn’t falter as Nygel leaned back in consideration.  
_

__

_She knew what was coming.  
_

__

_“I owe a favour to the Chief of Electrical. He’s got a thing for tough, pretty girls…like **you**.”  
_

__

_Raven’s stomach rolled in disgust at the thought, but she masked it behind a blank expression as she stared across the table at the woman, wondering just how many others she had made the same offer to. She knew her mom was one of them._

__

_No matter what time she might find herself in, Raven would **never** be one of those women.  
_

__

_Raven had known what was coming. She came prepared.  
_

__

_Pursuing her lips in mock disappointment, Raven cast another glance at the man in the room, who had backed off from the table as the business commenced and now stood at the entrance where she had walked in.  
_

__

_“A favor to the Chief of Electrical? I know I said I was expecting a high cost but I gotta say, Nygel, I’m disappointed. I would have thought you had more **imagination**.”  
_

__

_“Oh?!” Nygel’s brows flew up to her hairline, “Did you now? Do you perhaps have something else you would like to offer me?”  
_

__

_“In fact, I do,” Raven’s eyes flickered up to meet the woman’s, “Something that beats keeping in the good books of someone like the Chief of **Electrical**.”  
_

__

_The title dripped from Raven’s lips in distaste, something that Nygel found interesting enough to press on.  
_

__

_“Pray tell, Little Bird, what would that be?”  
_

__

_“Something that even you can’t access,” Raven hummed, “Morphine.”  
_

__

_Nygel stilled. Even the man at the wall shifted, whether in interest or in wariness, she didn’t know.  
_

__

_Morphine was probably the single most precious medical resource on the Ark. It could only be found in one place and that was the Ark Medical Station which was kept under lock and key and under the heavy supervision of one Dr. Griffin. The restrictions on the stuff alone made it an item that was used only sparingly in even the most grueling of procedures.  
_

__

_It was also the only thing Nygel couldn’t get on the Ark.  
_

__

_Suddenly, a high pitch cackle left Nygel’s lips as she clutched her belly. The man guarding the entrance whipped his head back in forth in shock while Raven stared the woman down, waiting for her fit of laughter to end.  
_

__

_“Ah, you Reyes women have the best humor!”  
_

__

_“Oh, I never joke about business,” Raven said mockingly, leaning back in her seat as she gave the woman a raised brow, “Isn’t that what you always say?”  
_

__

_The grin left Nygel’s face. A new one appeared on Raven’s.  
_

__

_“I hear Kane’s watching your every move nowadays, so I know that if I’m asking you to do this, I gotta make it worth your while,” she told the woman, repeating the same words Nygel had said to her many years ago. Raven tapped her fingers against her forearms as she pointed out, “You see, no one cares about a small, insignificant girl like me. And with the discovery of stolen morphine on the rise, Kane’s going to have other things to worry about than a woman he hasn’t been able to pin down for years.”  
_

__

_Nygel blinked at her, her hand palming the exposed skin above her collar as she muttered, “You’re serious?”  
_

__

_“Deadly.”  
_

__

_“ **How?** ” Nygel pressed with a mocking smile.  
_

__

_“I happen to have a procedure coming up to replace my birth control implant. Mine has expired and I’ve been meaning to get it replaced for a while now,” Raven shrugged nonchalantly, waving it off, “I’ll nick exactly three vials. That should last you a while. All I ask for in return is a pressure regulator in good condition.”  
_

__

_Nygel was quiet as she considered this plan, her maroon lips twitching as a small, begrudging smile of respect curled up on her face.  
_

__

_“It looks like the Little Bird has flown the nest,” Nygel leaned her head back to look at her face, her dark eyes narrowed and tracing her features like she couldn’t recognize the girl standing in front of her, “I will get you your part. The trade will go down right here, three days from now.”  
_

__

_“Good doing business with you, Nygel,” Raven smirked, mockingly inclining her head to the woman as she pushed back from her chair and turned to leave.  
_

__

_“Ba – bye, Little Bird!”  
_

__

_Raven’s smirk only grew as she left the room.  
_

__

_Ba – bye, bitch._

#### TO BE CONTINUED...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a few questions for you guys:  
> \- What part did you like best?  
> \- Are you guys enjoying Raven's POV so far and would you like to see more of it in the future as the story progresses?  
> \- What are you most looking forward to seeing Raven face in the future of this storyline?  
> \- What did you think about Raven and Octavia's interactions so far? What is your opinion of their relationship (non-canon and canon?)  
> \- Did you guys like the little Bellarke references from Raven's POV?  
> \- Who enjoyed the Kabby interactions and where do you think they are headed in the future?  
> \- Which Raven/character interaction was your favorite so far in her POV?  
> \- Which Raven reunion did you enjoy most?  
> \- What do you think about her team up with Kane to take down Nygel?  
> \- Who enjoyed seeing Bellamy Blake this chapter? (I added his little cameo because I know a lot of you are dying to get back to him and Clarke!)  
> \- What would you like to see most next chapter?  
> \- What do you think I could improve and what do you want to see more of?


	14. Raven Reyes: Spacewalker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Nygel was quiet as she considered this plan, her maroon lips twitching as a small, begrudging smile of respect curled up on her face._  
>    
> _“It looks like the Little Bird has flown the nest,” Nygel leaned her head back to look at her face, her dark eyes narrowed and tracing her features like she couldn’t recognize the girl standing in front of her, “I will get you your part. The trade will go down right here, three days from now.”_
> 
> _“Good doing business with you, Nygel,” Raven smirked, mockingly inclining her head to the woman as she pushed back from her chair and turned to leave._
> 
> _“Ba – bye, Little Bird!”_
> 
> _Raven’s smirk only grew as she left the room._
> 
> _Ba – bye, bitch._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it! The second chapter and wrap up chapter for Raven's POV of how the Ark came down to the ground! I'm love everyone's little comments, they truly are what inspire me to write my chapters. They mean so much to me and I look forward to hearing more from you guys as the story progresses. 
> 
> I might not be able to update for a while because I'm going to be really busy soon. I start University in two days and next Wednesday I am celebrating my 18th so please don't be too disappointed in me if you don't get an update in March. 
> 
> However, if you guys have Tumblr or want to drop a comment below, feel free to ask me any questions about the fic or drop any suggestions for future chapters, e.g. what you want to see most, what you think a certain interaction will go down like, which character will do what when finally faced with another character or a certain situation. 
> 
> Your opinions and answers actually do help me write these scenes when the time comes and I am all to happy to credit you guys with inspiring them! So, please, don't be afraid to drop a comment either here on archiveofourown or on my Tumblr, which you can find in my bio.
> 
> Cheers x 
> 
> Lou.

_Raven had known that after that meeting, her every move would be watched. While it was true that, to Nygel’s knowledge, Raven was just an insignificant mechanic who struggled at the bottom of the food chain just like every other patron of Nygel’s, the attitude she had shown in the meeting was something that would not only earn the woman’s respect but her suspicions too.  
_

_After her meeting, she had met with Sinclair in Mecha, following him down to the maintenance bay where Kane and Jaha were waiting. The previously untouched room that had been blocked off from the public was decked out with all the tools and equipment Raven would need to fix up the escape pod that stood on the far wall.  
_

_When Raven and Sinclair walked in, Kane instructed her to take a seat and give the report on the meeting. She had informed him about how the exchange would take place in three days. Raven would steal the morphine during her ‘procedure’ at 1700 the day beforehand, the hour before Abby would finish her shift in Medical. This way, she reasoned to the two men, the morphine wouldn’t be reported as ‘missing’ until the morning after when Jackson did the routine stock check.  
_

_This would keep Kane ‘busy’ for the majority of the day before the fake Council meeting took place at 1300 hours when Raven and Nygel would feel it safe enough to move the machine part to the business room in Factory to make the trade.  
_

_She had also told Kane and Jaha about how Nygel implied she had the Chief of Electrical in her pocket. It was with a bitter taste on her tongue that she informed them of how Nygel offered the machine part in exchange for Raven selling her body to the Chief of Electrical in order to pay back a favor Nygel owed him.  
_

_Raven had quietly explained that Nygel revealed how she took advantage of her mother’s moonshine addiction and prostituted her to many Ark officers, the Chief of Electrical being one of them. From the corner of her eye, she had noticed Sinclair shuffle from foot to foot, his jaw clenched as he stared down at his clipboard.  
_

_Sinclair had known her mother when she was still alive. They had grown up together on Mecha and were friends when Rita used to work on Go-Sci as an engineer who often worked on observing the structural integrity of the Ark stations.  
_

_Raven barely remembered that smart, sassy woman who let little baby Raven play around on her work desk amongst her dirty tools and paperwork. When Raven was five, her mother fell into depression, turned to moonshine, and got too sucked in. She was let go from Go-Sci and became the shell of a person that was now solidified in her daughter’s memories.  
_

_Raven looked away from Sinclair. She knew how he felt, hearing about the woman who was once one of his best friends in such a crude way. She wished he didn’t have to listen to it. She wanted the memory of her mother as the person she was to survive with at least one person. She wished that someone could remember Rita Reyes and see her as something other than a deadbeat mom with an alcohol problem.  
_

_Raven had tried over the years. Despite all that she had seen, she hadn’t been able to resolve her feelings about her late mother. She had long since stopped trying.  
_

_With all this business with Nygel, it had dredged all those offensive memories up. Raven needed to focus on the task at hand and not get dragged into Nygel’s mind games. She had let herself get wound up by the woman’s taunts the first time around, and she refused to walk into her web again.  
_

_For the next three days, Raven made sure to keep a consistent routine that wouldn’t raise the suspicions of Nygel’s people or the guardsmen, keeping true to her role as someone who was keeping under the radar of Ark officers like Abby or Kane. She woke up at 0800 every morning and headed to the Mess Hall, avoiding the back table full of Council members like the plague and avoiding eye contact with Nygel as she served her the morning rations. She headed for her shift in Go-Sci at 0900 and didn’t leave until 1500. Then she would meet up with Sinclair and head down to the maintenance bay together.  
_

_Kane and Jaha had informed her that they wouldn’t be appearing in that section again until after the trade with Nygel, so her reports were delivered by Sinclair when he met with the Council members in Earth Monitoring Station.  
_

_To their credit, Raven hadn’t noticed any of Nygel’s people until the day of her procedure. It was late in the afternoon when she walked around the corner to enter the long corridor that led up to Medical. Despite how late it was, there were many people lined up along the walls.  
_

_Raven frowned, dismayed. There were about twenty to thirty people. Most of them were parents with children and the elderly. Some had been set up with breathing masks, but those were sparse, and she could tell were only given to those who were struggling to inhale and exhale properly. A little girl sat at the front with her hands wrapped in her father’s, who had crouched down beside her.  
_

_Her eyes widened in recognition and she wandered over to them, calling out cheerily, “Reese. Mr. Lemkin.”  
_

_The red-headed man jerked his chin up, his lips quirking up in a sad smile.  
_

_“Reyes. Up to trouble?”  
_

_Raven kept her grin, winking at them both, “You know me. Haven’t seen you in Go-Sci lately. Those bast - **morons** in Maintenance keeping you busy?”  
_

_Reese smirked at the older girl’s attempts to cover up her swearing and she sassed, “You know whatever curse word you’ve said, I’ve probably heard it before.”  
_

_Raven clicked her tongue, grinning down at the girl, “Well, you shouldn’t have heard it. Much too young.”  
_

_She reached down and mussed a hand through the girl’s auburn hair, causing her to shriek playfully and swat her away, “Come on! You’re messing it up.”  
_

_“No, I’m making it better,” Raven retorted, retracting her hand and tilting her head as if appraising her work, “There, better.”  
_

_Tor Lemkin chuckled from beside his daughter and turned his body, purple barrette clip in his hand, “Here, let’s get some of this out of your eye.”  
_

_Reese rolled her eyes before pushing her father’s hand back, scoffing slightly, “It’s not like it’ll help. Can’t see either way.”  
_

_Mr. Lemkin’s face crumpled for a moment before he gave his daughter a small smile, tucking the clip into his overall pocket. Raven’s smile dropped, and she crouched down in front of them, asking softly, “What brings you guys to Medical today?”  
_

_“Just a checkup,” the man replied with a casual shrug of his shoulders, patting his daughter’s head fondly. Reese rolled her eyes again before turning to Raven and answering, “It’s my right eye. I can’t see anything with it.”  
_

_Before the horror and realization could sink in, the plastic divider separating the waiting line and the Medical Bay peeled back as Abby walked through, looking around with narrowed, concerned eyes before they landed on the three of them directly in front of the line.  
_

_“Mr. Lemkin, Reese,” the woman greeted with a small smile before turning to Raven and nodded her head, “Miss Reyes, your appointment - ”  
_

_“Hey, Doc,” Mr. Lemkin stood up, brushing his hands off on his trousers before offering it to Abby, “Thanks for seeing us again.”  
_

_“Of course,” Abby took his hand, shaking it with a slight frown towards Raven, “I just – “  
_

_“It’s fine,” Raven waved it off, with a pointed look at Reese, “They can go first.”  
_

_“Raven – “ Abby began to protest. Reese cut her off, jumping up with all the eagerness of a healthy child and clasping onto Raven’s hand, tugging it as she pleaded, “Oh, can Raven come in with us?!”  
_

_“I – “ Raven stammered, jerking her head from Mr. Lemkin, who looked like he wanted to refuse, to Abby, who stared at them thoughtfully before nodding her head.  
_

_Leaning down so that she was at eye level with the young girl, she smiled kindly and told her, “Of course Raven can come with you.”  
_

_The girl grinned in victory before tugging Raven forward. Abby stepped back and held the divider for them as they stepped through, giving Raven a small, gentle smile in understanding as she passed.  
_

_Raven led the girl to her seat and stepped to the other side to make room for Mr. Lemkin, who kneeled beside his daughter. Abby smiled reassuringly at them as she took the Lemkins’ details once more before beginning her check-up. She started with checking the girl’s pupils, then conducting an eye test to check how badly her vision was affected.  
_

_Reese’s left eye was functioning as usual, but she could barely see out of her right.  
_

_“I can see shadows and lights, but it’s super blurry,” the little girl told the doctor as she shone the light in her eye, “I can feel the light in my eyes, but I can’t see the torch.”  
_

_Raven squeezed the girl’s hand, her heart sinking in her chest. Abby gave the girl a tight-lipped smile before clicking the torch up, patting the girl on the head encouragingly, “Well, we’re all done for the day. You did well. I’m going to say, for now, try doing the exercises I told you about, and I’ll see you next week to see if anything has changed.”  
_

_“The spoon exercises?” the girl checked. Abby nodded.  
_

_“Yep. Put it over your left eye and see if your left eye can pick up the shapes around you.”  
_

_Reese shrugged with a small smile, “Okie Dokie then.”  
_

_Abby straightened up and asked her, “Did you want to sit with Raven outside for a bit while I talk to your father?”  
_

_Reese raised a brow. Raven saw the look of a kid who wasn’t buying it and snorted, tugging on the girl’s hand, “Come on. I’ll tell you what I saw flying in space today.”  
_

_Reese jumped up in excitement and followed Raven out of the room, chattering about how many stars there were in the sky and if she could see the moon when she did her spacewalks. She entertained the little girl for a while until her father stomped out of the Med Bay, his scowl softening when he saw his daughter sitting cross-legged on the floor next to Raven.  
_

_“Come on, kid. I’m not taking the late shift tonight so guess who’s eating dinner with me in the Mess Hall?”  
_

_Reese cracked a happy grin, quickly scrambling up from the floor to join her father, waving at Raven as they walked down the corridor and disappeared around the corner. Now that the girl was gone, Raven dropped her playful demeanor and let out a tired, pitiful sigh.  
_

_A pair of boots appeared in her peripheral, and Raven jerked her head up to meet Abby’s eyes, who stared down at her softly. Raven nodded, understanding what the woman was trying to say before she stood up, brushing off the back of her pants and walking beside her through the plastic dividers.  
_

_“Let me guess,” Raven said in a quiet, dejected voice, “Oxygen deprivation.”  
_

_“Early signs of it,” Abby nodded, hunched over her desk as she typed some stuff into the tablet, “She’s been seeing me for three weeks now. It’s been getting worse.”  
_

_Raven stepped up next to the woman and put a hand on her shoulder, “It’s going to be okay, Abby. I’ll get us down on the ground, and Reese and all the others will be okay.”  
_

_Abby blew out a breath before inhaling sharply. Straightening her back, the medical officer turned to her, the helpless, stressed expression disappearing from her face as she stared at the girl beside her.  
_

_She was Dr. Griffin now, and they had a job to do.  
_

_“I’m going outside to check down the line. You’ll have five minutes.”  
_

_Raven nodded stiffly, “Where?”  
_

_Abby turned to the silver steel cabinets in the back of the room. There were locks on the cabinet doors, and when Abby slipped something small and metallic with jiggered edges, Raven pieced together what she needed to do, nodding her understanding to the woman.  
_

_Abby cleared her throat before stepping back and loudly declaring, “Take off your jacket before you take a seat. If you’re wearing a long-sleeved shirt, I’ll need you to roll it up to your elbows. After you’re done, please wait until I return.”  
_

_A slight smirk curled up on Raven’s lips as she looked the woman in her eyes. She gave her a lazy salute before drawling, “Whatever you say, Doc.”_

_While Abby went out and played her part, Raven played hers. She hurried over to the metal cabinets and made work of putting the key in and turning it. The cabinet door opened with a small click, followed by a pop._

_She reached in and searched the plastic drawers for the one labeled ‘Morphine’ and found it at the back. Careful not to jostle the other drawers’ position, she pulled out the plastic container and opened the drawer revealing twenty vials of morphine._

_Glancing behind her out of instinct, she quickly pocketed three vials. Closing the drawer, she gently placed the plastic container back into its original position before shutting the cabinet door. She locked it back off and jogged back to her seat, leaning over to slip the key under Abby’s clipboard as the doctor instructed._

_While she waited for her to come back, she shrugged out of her jacket and rolled up the sleeve of the arm with the implant in it. They had discussed how they needed to make it as realistic as possible so that Nygel’s people wouldn’t get suspicious._

_The plastic dividers flapped together as Abby strolled back in casually as if nothing were out of place. The woman joined her over where she was sitting and pulled out the bandages and patches._

_“Everything alright?” Abby asked softly._

_Raven nodded, showing that she had got the morphine with a sarcastic drawl, “Just peachy, Doc. Everything is just peachy.”_

_It took about ten minutes for Abby to put the patch on her arm and wrap it up. The rest of the hour was spent quietly discussing her progress with the escape pod._

_She had successfully fixed the front paneling and ensured that it would hold in the heat of re-entry. The controls were fixed, but she needed to wait to install the pressure regulator so that when the time comes, it would be connected to the front so it could give her readings during her drop._

_She had installed a seat belt and screwed down the seating so that there wouldn’t be any accidents with her falling out or getting her body thrown through the window on impact with the ground._

_She told the woman all of this, getting lost in the details and ignoring the warm feeling that spread through her chest when she saw Abby try to bite back her soft, fond smile as she listened to Raven ramble._

_After all the horrible reminders of how her real mom had failed her, seeing Abby, Sinclair, and Bellamy reminded her of the family that was truly there for her when it counted._

_Despite their faults and their ups and downs, and the times where they put her through more pain and heartache than Rita ever did, in the end, they were there for her._

_Raven couldn’t say the same for her mother._

_When the hour was up, Abby walked her out and stood with her in front of the plastic dividers while she ‘instructed’ her on how to properly treat her bandage, warning her of some numbness and telling her to come back if there was any pain or strange side effects as sometimes new chips can malfunction._

_The girl gave the doctor a brisk nod before shoving her hands into her jacket pockets and walking off down the corridor. The way out of Go-Sci was empty until she got to the main hall that led to the elevator. There, she found a man leaning against the wall. She assumed he was waiting for the lift to get to their level until he turned his head to look directly at her._

_He was a plain, unassuming man in his mid-thirties, and he whipped his head around the hall before rushing towards her, not stopping his fast pace even as he got closer. The man’s big, bony shoulder caught her arm as he leaned in quickly to whisper, “Moving at 2000 tonight. Trade at 1300 tomorrow. Nygel will see you then.”_

_As quickly as he whispered the information to her, he tore himself away and headed back down the main hall that she came from, his head facing forward stoically as if he never paid her any mind._

_Raven’s fingers curled around the two vials in her pocket and she let out a breath of air before pressing the button on the elevator, a small, relieved smile playing on her lips as she waited for the doors to open._

_Tomorrow the deal would go down and finally, the spider would find herself trapped in her own web._

_-_

_The next day, she had spent most of the morning and mid-day being prepped for the exchange. Sinclair had created a listening device that would catch all the audio within the room. The entire exchange would be recorded and would come through in the Council Chambers where Sinclair, Kane, and Abby would listen in._

_He had instructed her on how to strap it on and stepped out to give her privacy. When he returned, he asked her to practice moving in it to ensure that the wires and device wouldn’t appear under her clothes. The chord had itched against her sternum so she had rearranged the small box that sat in the small space between the undersides of her breast so that it was more comfortable for her. The microphone itself sat just beneath the neckline of her shirt, covered by the thick stitching and the labels of her bomber jacket._

_Half an hour before her meeting with Nygel, Sinclair dismissed her from her shift and made his way towards Alpha as he was giving his ‘report’ to the Council members at the ‘Council meeting’. Raven had grinned at him confidently and told him she would see him at Mess after the meeting._

_Shucking her bag over her shoulder, she had headed to Factory Station. She arrived at Nygel’s business room at exactly 1300 and walked in without hesitation. The muscle didn’t bother to stop her this time, having been informed she was coming. Nygel sat waiting behind her table, her fingers entwined and settled on top of her sternum as she lounged back in her chair, watching her approach with eager brown eyes._

_On the table in front of the woman was a black case that presumably held the pressure regulator. Raven stopped in front of the table and lifted her bag off her shoulders, placing it on the table on her side._

_Nygel leaned forward with that cat-like smile of hers as she purred, “Hello, Little Bird. I hear your procedure went well.”_

_“It went as well as can be expected,” Raven replied crisply, unzipping her bag to lift out the small plastic container that held the three vials. She held it up for Nygel to see but pulled it back when the woman reached out to grab it._

_Nygel’s smile froze on her face as she tutted, “Come now. A deal is a deal.”_

_Raven lifted a brow, jutting her chin at Nygel’s black case, “You first. I want to make sure it’s a good one and you’re not ripping me off here.”_

_“I’m hurt,” the woman pouted mockingly, splaying her hand across the dark skin that covered her heart, “I’m a businesswoman, Raven. That means that when I do business, my trade is good.”_

_Raven continued to stare at the woman expectantly. Nygel sighed, rolling her eyes before giving her a dry look, “Fine.”_

_She clicked her fingers at her muscle by the door and the man brushed past on his way to Nygel’s side at the table. Clicking open the locks on the black case, he opened it up to reveal the pressure regulator sitting snug amongst the shaped cotton that lined the bottom of the case._

_“Thank you, Geoffery,” Nygel grinned fondly at the man, watching as he walked back to his position at the entrance of the room. The woman’s eyes flickered back to Raven’s, and she gestured to the box, “Have at it, girl.”_

_Raven narrowed her eyes at the woman skeptically, pocketing the container with the vials in it before pulling the case across the table so that it sat in front of her. She picked the machinery up in her hands, frowning as she checked it over. The spring looked to be in good condition, used but not to the point that it was worn and nothing seemed to be clogged or blocking the entrance to the entrance or exit to where the high pressure would enter and the low pressure would go out._

_Satisfied that Nygel hadn’t ripped her off the machine part this time around, she placed the pressure regulator back into the case and closed it shut, clicking the locks into place. Nygel wore a tight-lipped smile, her eyes darting down to Raven’s jacket pocket expectantly._

_“It’s to your liking?”_

_Raven didn’t reply. Fishing around in her pocket, she pulled out the container and tapped it on the desk, causing Nygel to flinch in concern for her precious vials. Raven smirked at the woman before sliding the container across the table._

_“Good doing business with you, Nygel,” Raven drawled sarcastically, pulling back with her hand around the handle of the black case. Turning around, she headed to the door when Geoffery, Raven’s hired muscle, stepping in front of her with his beefy arms crossed over his barrel chest._

_Nostrils flaring in irritation, Raven looked up at the man and demanded through gritted teeth, “ **Get the hell out of my way.** ”_

_“I’m afraid he can’t do that,” Nygel spoke up from behind her, amusement coating her voice._

_Growling low in her throat, Raven spun around and snarled, “What **the hell** do you think you’re doing, Nygel?!”_

_The woman stood up from behind the table, spinning the plastic container with the morphine between her two fingers as she smiled innocently, “I’m just doing my civic duty, Raven.”_

_“ **WHAT?!** ”_

_“Inspector Grus,” Nygel called out, not taking her glimmering eyes off Raven, “I’ve caught her in the act.”_

_Raven’s mouth gaped as the door behind Nygel opened, revealing a guardsman. He looked to be in his late fifties, early sixties with balding white hair and a sharp chin. He had small, beady eyes and a scar on his withered upper lip. With one hand on his black vest, he gestured at Raven._

_Suddenly a strong hand wrapped around her upper arms, encircling her bicep in an iron-clad grip as Geoffery dragged her forward. Raven elbowed him in the side, thrashing against him but didn’t pull more from him than a pained grunt._

_He thrust her forward, and the guardsman, Grus, grabbed her._

_“This the girl?” he asked Nygel formally._

_The woman inclined her head, “She’s the one.”_

_“And my payment?”_

_“Payment?!” Raven spat out, whipping her head back and forth between the old man and the middle-aged woman. Realization sank in quickly and she scoffed, “Just how many people do you have in your pocket?”_

_Nygel tilted her head at her and chuckled patronizingly, “More than you know. You see, you might have flown the nest, Little Bird, but there is a whole, wide world out there. This is, unfortunately, going to be your introduction to it.”_

_Turning towards the guardsman, Nygel opened the lid of the small container in her hand and held out two of the vials of morphine towards Grus._

_“As agreed.”_

_Grus took the offered vials, shoving one of them hastily into one of the pockets in his vest. He pulled on Raven’s arm roughly and told her in a gruff voice, “Raven Reyes, you are under arrest for stealing morphine. In accordance with the Exodus Charter, you will be placed in holding until – “_

_“Hold the fuck up,” Raven scoffed, cutting him off as she turned to look at Nygel, “You’re not **seriously** thinking you can get away with this?!”_

_“I already am,” Nygel tilted her head, smiling serenely as Grus struggled to drag away Raven._

_Raven barked out laughing, rolling her eyes in irony. She gave a sharp grin at Nygel and drawled, “I don’t think you understand. What I meant to say is – you’re **not** getting away with this.”_

_Nygel’s brow furrowed a minuscule as she stared at the girl. Her smile dropped suddenly as footsteps echoed down the hallway that led to the main corridors and when she snapped her head to Raven, she found the girl raising a brow at her, a triumphant smirk on her face._

_The way Nygel’s face unraveled into dawning horror at the turn of events was exhilarating and Raven watched in amusement as the woman attempted to walk out, hurrying towards the doors that Grus had appeared from when a smooth, cool voice spoke out._

_“Nygel. Don’t tell me you were just leaving.”_

_The woman froze before the door, her shoulders slouching as she realized that she was too late. Still, when she slowly turned with her hands placed in a casual position over her stomach, she wore a smile as if she hadn’t been caught._

_“Kane. Here to see your mother? She’s in the middle of her sermon in the next room. Can’t miss her.”_

_The dark-haired man smirked at her as he strode forward, with four guardsmen at his back. Two of the guardsmen, Raven realized with a grin, were Sergeant Miller and Major Costa, who had been involved in their excursions during their conflict with Mount Weather._

_“No, Nygel. I’m here to see you,” Kane told her with a curt nod at the two men at his back. The two men strode forward, with Major Costa heading over to Nygel. Sergeant Miller and Kane headed over to where Inspector Grus still kept a tight, painful hold on Raven’s arm._

_Kane stared daggers at the older guardsmen and ordered softly, “Release her.”_

_Inspector Grus cleared his throat but didn’t obey. Instead, he showed Kane the vial of morphine he held in his free hand as if it were explanation enough._

_“Sir, this girl is the one who stole the morphine. The woman called ahead that she has been getting harassed by this one, who was attempting to sell it to her.”_

_“I wonder why,” Kane hummed dismissively, snatching the vial out of the man’s hand before giving the hand around Raven’s arm a pointed look and repeating, “Release Raven Reyes. **Right now**.”_

_“Sir – “_

_“Raven?” Kane turned to her expectantly. She nodded back._

_“Vest. Right pocket.”_

_“Sergeant Miller?”_

_“Yes, sir,” the sergeant replied, flicking open Grus’ vest pocket. The older guardsmen flinched away from Sergeant Miller, barking out._

_“What are you doing?! I’m just doing my job – “_

_Sergeant Miller ignored the man and placed a hand on his shoulder to keep him still. With his other hand, he opened the vest pocket and pulled out the vial of morphine nestled in there. Grus stammered, his pale face turning increasingly red as he insisted, “Now – now, sir, this isn’t what it looks like – “_

_“Clearly,” Kane drawled sarcastically, taking the vial from the sergeant, “Inspector Whitlam Grus, you are under arrest for participating in illegal trade, and aiding in the theft of morphine. In accordance with the Exodus Charter, you will be put in holding until the time of your execution where you will face death by floatation.”_

_Grus lurched back horrified, letting Raven out of his hold. Sergeant Miller pulled out his handcuffs from his utility belt and walked behind the older guardsmen, bringing his wrists together and snapping the cuffs on._

_“You can’t – you don’t understand! – I’m doing my goddamn job! – “ Grus yelled out as he was led past them towards the main corridors. Kane and Raven watched them disappear, the man’s shouts dissipating. Kane turned to Raven, frowning slightly as he watched her rub her arm. There were red rashes appearing in the form of fingers, and he knew that they would bruise by tomorrow morning._

_“Are you alright?” he asked her._

_Raven gave a stiff nod and sniffed nonchalantly, “Just peachy, sir.”_

_His lips twitched slightly, and he nodded back before turning over to where Major Costa had Nygel in handcuffs. The pair walked over to where they stood, and Major Costa held out the vial that he took off of Nygel’s person._

_“Well, well, well,” the woman tutted at them, her gaze flicking from the young woman to the older man, “It seems that I was wrong about you, Little Bird. You have met the big wide world.”_

_“You were wrong about a lot of things, Nygel. Don’t take it personally,” Raven snarked back._

_Nygel’s lip curled up at the girl before she turned to face Kane, smirking slightly, “You said one day you would catch me. I didn’t believe that day would ever come.”_

_Kane’s lips turned into thin lines as he stared down at the woman, his hands clasped behind his back, “Nygel Saidah, you are under arrest for illegal trade, aiding in the theft of morphine, and dealing in prostitution. In accordance with the Exodus Charter, you will be put in holding until the time of your execution where you will face death by floatation.”_

_The woman nodded slowly, smiling at them both as she hummed pleasantly, “Ah, kids. All grown up.”_

_“Major Costa,” Kane ordered sharply, “Take her away.”_

_“Yes sir,” the guardsman nodded, pulling at the woman’s bound hands to get her to walk towards the corridor that Sergeant Miller had taken Grus through._

_However, Nygel being Nygel always needed the last word. Turning to look at Kane and Raven from over her shoulders, she flashed them a pearly white grin, her eyes flared as if she was the victor as she cooed at them, “Ba-bye, Little Bird, Sonny Boy. I’ll be seeing you two around.”_

_Kane seemed to be sick and tired of Nygel’s games as he stepped forward and inclined his head, “No, Nygel. I don’t suspect you will.”_

-

Back in the present time where Raven was sitting with her back against the wall alongside Octavia Blake, she watched as the girl scoffed lightly, kicking out with the heel of her boot against the dirty concrete floor.

“You really are something, Reyes,” the girl told her, cracking a grin as she threw her head back.

Raven smirked at her, “Yeah, tell me something I don’t already know.”

“So, what happened after that?”

“Well, I took the pressure regulator back to maintenance bay and spent the afternoon installing it into the pod,” Raven shrugged, picking up a leaf and twirling it around between her thumb and index finger, “I felt like I could breathe again, you know? Like this weight lifted off my chest. Nygel and all of her people were arrested, probably floated that same day. Women like our moms would never have to deal with someone like Nygel taking advantage of them like that again.”

“And no kids like us would ever have to see their mothers go through what our moms went through,” Octavia rasped out quietly, her head bowed. Her cheeks shone in the growing daylight and Raven pretended not to hear the slight hitch in the girl’s breath, turning away from her to give her privacy.

After a long moment, Octavia cleared her throat, brushing her knuckles under her eyes as she asked, “You saved the day once again.”

“Per fucking usual,” Raven rolled her eyes dramatically.

“Kane and Jaha owe you big time,” Octavia whistled, settling herself back into a more comfortable position.

“You bet they did.”

“You take them up on it?”

“It’s funny you should mention that actually,” Raven cocked her head to the side at the other girl, grinning.

-

_It was the afternoon after Nygel and her people were arrested. Raven spent most of her day working on installing the pressure regulator into the escape pod. To her relief, her brief observation of the machine part turned out to be correct and the pressure regulator was in mint condition, good as new._

_She was humming happily to herself as she worked on fixing up the control panels when the doors to the maintenance bay opened and Kane and Jaha walked through. The two men gave her content, polite smiles when she pulled herself out of the pod and stood up to face them._

_“Chancellor, Councilmember,” she nodded at them briskly, snatching up a towel from the table to clean her hands up, “Everything okay?”_

_Jaha nodded, proceeding to answer the question she really wanted to ask, “Miss Saidah and her people have been dealt with. We have ensured that no one will pick up the trade.”_

_Kane must have seen the skepticism on her face because he stepped forward and reassured her, “If anyone does attempt to do so, we will deal with them in the same manner as we did Nygel.”_

_Raven shrugged at them, tossing the towel down on her work table as she said, “Doesn’t really matter anymore, does it? In a week, we’ll be down on the ground and people won’t be desperate enough to turn to illegal trade.”_

_“Let us hope so,” Jaha smiled at her, his hands clasped behind his back as he appraised the pod, “You have done incredible work, Miss Reyes. Both with helping Kane with the apprehension of Miss Saidah and with fixing up the escape pod for deployment. Please, do not think we haven’t noticed.”_

_The girl scoffed, picking up her wrench as she ducked under the hull of the escape pod to turn back to the paneling, “I would hope so, Chancellor. I’m doing all your work for you.”_

_Kane cleared his throat, trying to quickly move past her bold statement, “Raven, Chancellor Jaha, and I would like to offer you a reward. We know that all you have achieved hasn’t come without its risks. We would like to acknowledge that properly.”_  


_Raven, from within the escape pod, raised a brow at that. A reward? She fucking deserved it, for everything that she had done in the past five days. Heck, she made more progress within a week than the Council made in a month, the last time around._

_Pulling out to face the two men, she narrowed her eyes at them before murmuring, “What kind of reward?”_

_Jaha inclined his head and Raven stepped out of the escape pod, crossing her arms over her chest. The man went on to explain, “We are aware that your boyfriend, Finn Collins, is one of the juvenile prisoners in Lock-Up. We are willing to arrange a visit with Collins in a private room for an hour. We are also willing to arrange for you both to take your rations during this time.”_

_Raven stiffened. An hour? In a private room? With Finn?_

_A long time ago, Raven would have jumped at the chance, any chance, like the one she was being offered now. Quality, alone time with the boyfriend that – to her – had died over a century ago. She hadn’t seen him since that awful night when Clarke mercy killed him, a night that haunted her for months afterward where she would wake up screaming his name as that knife was driven into him, again and again, and again._

_Despite the fact that they had been broken up at that point, Finn’s death would always be like that goddamn knife, sinking into her heart. It had taken so long for her to truly forgive Clarke for killing him, even after she had told the girl she understood why she did it, she didn’t think that she actually could forgive her until around about the time they destroyed the City of Light._

_Seeing him again was supposed to make her heart leap out of her chest, make her feel like she was floating in space. That was how he used to make her feel. Like the stars shone for them, like they could rule the goddamn earth. When she had landed on the ground, pulled out of the escape pod by Clarke, and seen him run out of the tree line and look at her with those big, brown eyes of his, she had felt like she could do anything._

_Blood dripping from her head wound and the world whooshing around her in the most beautiful, vibrant shade of green and blue, she had looked at him and known that it had been worth it. That he was worth everything and anything, even the threat of death that she spat on when she dropped from the Ark and made the hazardous journey through the re-entry to Earth._

_Now, as Jaha went on about how it would only be a one-time deal that would not continue until Finn faced trial on the ground alongside the rest of the prisoners, Raven didn’t feel like her heart was dancing with joy or like she was floating amongst the stars._

_Her stomach dropped and churned, and her hands flew to her lower abdomen as nausea rocked it suddenly. Her mouth opened and shut and she struggled to keep standing, feeling as if her knees were a breath from going out from beneath her._

_No, no, no, no, no, no. She couldn’t see him. Not **him**._

_Not now._

_“I – “ Raven’s voice came out in a squeak. Jaha and Kane looked at her with mixed expressions of surprise and concern. They had never heard the strong-willed girl sound like that before and Kane stepped forward as if to see if she were alright when she suddenly straightened up._

_Raven swallowed back her tears and told them, “I would like to give my visit to someone else instead.”_

_Kane tilted his head at her, frowning. Jaha blinked before slowly stating, “As I said, Raven, this would be a one-off opportunity – “_

_“I **understand** , Chancellor,” Raven said through gritted teeth, staring him right in the eyes, “And I would like to give this one-off opportunity to someone else.”_

_Jaha opened his mouth to protest but Kane cut in, briskly asking, “Who did you have in mind?”_

_Raven gave him a smile, her tears fading away._

_“Someone who needs it more than I do.”_

-

_In the time before the Anomaly, back when the Ark still orbited the earth and she had never seen the ground, Raven spent most of her time counting her days until what was called Visitor’s Day._

_Visitor’s Day was when parents, friends, and loved ones of the juvenile prisoners in Lock-Up were allowed to visit the prisoners. Visitor’s Day occurred once a month and each person was allowed half an hour in the public meeting rooms. The rooms were separated by a glass wall, punctured with holes to allow the prisoners and visitees to talk freely and clearly to one another._

_In the time before the Anomaly, Raven recalled that she hadn’t missed a single Visitor’s Day during the twelve months Finn was incarcerated for. She assumed, if the laws of time travel – whatever they might be – applied, that it was the same this time around._

_Despite having not set foot in the Sky Box for over a century – or more accurately, seven years, if she were thinking in terms of the time, she was awake for – Raven still had the entire place memorized._

_There were six levels. Four levels were designated to holding cells for the juvenile prisoners, one level was for the temporary holding cells for the prisoners over the age of 18, and the other was for the Commons._

_The Commons were a collection of rooms that were used by the juvenile prisoners during hours put aside for eating, Visitor’s Day, and social time. The Commons included a small room that was used as an Earth Skills classroom and doubled as a Mess Hall. Next to it, was the Visitor’s Day room with the glass wall in the middle, with two doors on either side of the glass, opposite from one another. The room beside that was the room designated for Social Time. Whether that be a conversation, recreation, or reflection._

_Raven used to find it weird that the Ark would allow the juvenile prisoner’s so much freedom until one Visitor’s Day, Finn had explained how the Ark allowed Social Time in order to reduce the tension and to lower the chances of a riot breaking out amongst the prisoners. They did this by encouraging them to get to know each other, making them attend classes together and eat together in order to promote harmony. They reasoned that this would increase their chances of being looked favorably when it came around for them to be reviewed._

_Raven had scoffed and made a joke about how the Council were dumbasses but after seeing the camaraderie between the Delinquents on the ground, how in a brief time those kids had become almost like family to her, she now realized how maybe, the Council had done something right for a change._

_Raven found herself smiling at the thought as she walked towards the Social Room when suddenly, a hand appeared on her shoulder to stop her in her tracks. Looking up at the young man who had been walking next to her expectantly, she watched as he ran a stressed hand through his dark gelled-back hair, smirking slightly when he pulled his fingers out of the strands and they were ruffled up, disheveled._

_Oh, Bell, if you remembered who I was right now, you would be in for a real treat about that dorky ass hairstyle, she grinned internally as she waited for Bellamy Blake to finally speak up about why he stopped them._

_“You all good, Blake?” she prompted him with an elbow to his ribs._

_The man gave her a dry look before glancing at the doors that separated him and Raven from the person inside. He let out a quiet sigh, his shoulders dropping as he murmured, “Maybe this was a bad idea…”_

_“What?” Raven pulled a face. She blew a raspberry at his ridiculous statement and pulled on his arm, trying to get him moving again, “Oh, come on! I did not arrange this for you so you could back out now. Don’t be a wimp and get inside!”_

_“You don’t understand, Raven!” Bellamy’s voice came out coarse as he pulled his arm out of her grip. He pointed to the door, “ **I’m** the reason she’s in there!”_

_Raven’s eyes softened a fraction. Bellamy 'I'm My Sister's Keeper' Blake was scared his sister didn’t want to see him._

_True, she had seen Octavia and Bellamy clash many times, with the younger Blake turning away and vowing that she hated him and that she never wanted to see him again. Then Bellamy did the same during the whole stunt with Sanctum, but one thing remained constant, all the way up to when the Anomaly swallowed them whole._

_The Blake siblings always came back to fight together and their love for each other never died._

_Raven knew this, she had seen it happen several times over the years. But this Bellamy only remembered the small, naive, sixteen-year-old girl who called for him as the guardsmen dragged her away._

_“You haven’t visited her, have you?”_

_Bellamy looked away, his neck turning red in shame as he muttered, “She wouldn’t want to see me.”_

_Okay, she was getting sick of this._

_“Of course, she wants to see you!” Raven exclaimed, prodding him in the chest harshly, “You’re her big brother, and right now, you’re a big fucking idiot because every minute you waste being a coward out here, your sister is in there probably thinking that it’s you who doesn’t want to see her! She probably thinks you blame her or something, Blake, so pull your head out of your ass and get a move on!”_

_When Bellamy didn’t move, Raven let out a frustrated growl and stepped around him, shoving against his back so hard that he fell forward, holding out his hand to brace himself so that he didn’t fall on his face. He hadn’t realized how close he was to the Social Room until he looked up and saw the door nob right next to his hand._

_From a safe distance away, Raven grinned as he glared over at her and cupped her hands over her mouth to whisper-yell, “GET YOUR DUMBASS IN THERE, BELLAMY BLAKE, **OR SO HELP ME** I WILL DRAG YOU IN THERE KICKING AND SCREAMING!”_

_The young man huffed and turned away from her. Straightening up, he stared at the door and Raven witnessed that young, boyish vulnerability she had glimpsed a few days earlier on when he had asked her to tell his sister he was sorry. She made a fist with her hand and pressed it underneath her chin, shaking her head a little the longer he just stared at the door._

_Finally, he reached his hand out towards the doorknob but before his fingers could wrap around it, he hesitated. Swallowing hard, Bellamy closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When they opened again, Raven saw him again. The Bellamy Blake that she called leader, brother, friend. The strong-willed, passionate and caring man that would, given the chance, bring down mountains and lead armies._

_That was the man who turned the knob and disappeared inside the room with a soft, coarse, “Hey, O.”_

_He closed the door as a girlish squeal echoed from the room and Raven smiled._

_“Atta boy,” she whispered to herself as she spun on her heel, shoving her hands into her jacket pockets, and headed to the stairwell that led to the security doors that separated the Skybox from the rest of the Ark._

_However, as she was heading back, the door leading to the Earth Skills class opened from the other side of the Skybox opened. A guardsman walked out and stood beside the doors with his arms pointed in the direction of the stairwell Raven was headed to._

“Prisoners, line up in single file,” the guardsmen’s order echoed from across the gaping space and Raven felt her heart beat fast.

_She had to get out of there. **Right fucking now**._

_“Right, follow me and no funny business!”_

_Raven fastened her pace but before she could go down the stairwell, the guardsmen appeared, with a hundred juvenile delinquents behind him. He nodded his head at her and she hurried to nod back, standing with her back against the wall._

_The guardsmen continued to lead the line up the stairwell and Raven felt the lump in her throat grow as people she hadn’t seen in years walked past her, casting curious but ultimately dismissive glances at her._

_She saw Monroe slouch past, giving annoyed looks at a grinning Sterling who poked her back from behind. She saw Roma giggling at their antics before whispering something to Bree, who gave Raven an unimpressed once-over as they hurried past. She saw the two boys Murphy killed, Connor and Myles, shuffling quietly. She saw Spencer sling his arm around a buddy of his as he sent a flirtatious grin her way._

_She saw Bek Yaxley and Aslynn Whelan, who held her hand behind her for her boyfriend to take. She saw Fox smile at her politely, before bowing her head as the guardsmen from the back of the line yelled at her to keep moving. She saw Shana, Phoenix, Marcus, and Ryan and closed her eyes, seeing Mount Weather blow up, seeing the grounders spear her friends, and seeing their ashes when she was pulled out of the dropship. She saw Praimfaya, she saw ALIE._

_Raven closed her eyes as dead people marched past. When she opened them again, she wished she had kept them closed._

_Jasper and Monty laughed as they headed towards her, clean, boyish faces breaking out into crooked grins. She muffled a small, silent sob with her hand and turned her head away as they muttered something about how she was ‘hot’ and how ‘Jasp’ had ‘no chance, not in this lifetime’. Harper followed them with a small, secretive smile directed to the back of their heads, looking so young that Raven felt like she was about to keel over sick._

_Next came Miller, who raised a brow at her in question but otherwise went back to his brooding, marching up the stairs after the others. She watched him go, aghast, finding herself wondering numbly where the hell did that beanie go throughout the chaos that they lived through._

 _Then came **John Fucking Murphy** and she almost about fucking lost it then and there._

_Because of course Murphy, of all people, had something to fucking say._

_Smirking that devilish smirk of his, Murphy stopped the line long enough to give a low whistle at her, sharing a laugh with one of his friends, before turning to her and saying, “You staying long?”_

_Raven let out a wet laugh before turning away, scoffing slightly as she told the boy, “You wish, Roach.”_

_“Roach? That’s a new one,” Murphy pulled a face before being shoved forward and the boy turned back to shout at the guardsmen who probably caused it from two people behind him, “Watch it, old man!”_

_“Move along, brat!” the guardsmen sneered and shoved again._

_Murphy sneered, turning around to Raven to give her a lazy salute before he was shoved through the doorway of the stairwell by his friend. She shook her head after him, thinking to herself that seeing Murphy was probably the best thing that had happened to her since she woke up on the Ark._

_Then she immediately grew uncomfortable by the thought alone and vowed that he would never find out about it. **Never**._

_She didn’t know she was grinning until a voice called out to her, “Raven?”_

_She realized she was wearing a grin when it suddenly disappeared._

_Her heart felt like it was being wrenched out of her chest. Lungs on fire, brain on fire, everything was on fire like his body had been the last time she had seen him, wrapped in white cloth and bound with twine as it lay arrest on top of a pyre full of bodies, bodies of the people he had killed._

_Raven unwittingly let out a strangled gasp and her stomach lurched in protest as her head whipped around to meet Finn Collins’ wide, brown eyes staring at her like she was an angel, from the stories she used to hear about the religious experiences of those who lived before the first bombs._

_If he looked at her like she was an angel, why did it suddenly feel like she was in Hell?_

_His voice called to her again, but it sounded garbled like she was hearing him from underwater. All she could do was stare at him, at his chin-length hair that hadn’t grown to the unkempt, wild length it had been when he was on the ground. His face was clean-shaven and clear of scars, scratches, or blood. His mouth looked soft as it lifted up into an excited smile. His eyes were soft too as he took a step towards her._

_He didn’t look like the man who had gunned down innocent people, children, elderly._

_He didn’t look like the stranger who cheated on her with another girl within a day of thinking she was dead._

_He looked like Finn, her Finn who used to hold her hands when she was scared or who used to drag her into the blanket fort he made in his bedroom. Her Finn who used to half his rations with her at the dining table in his parent’s apartment, or who took her to see the stars every time the Sky Glass turned away from Earth and out to the great space beyond._

_He looked like the boy next door, who cried in her lap when his parents passed away from sickness or who held her close when she would wake up screaming about her mother. He looked like the boy who wrapped his arms around her waist when she sat at her work table studying for the exam to become a Zero-G mechanic, or who sprawled in her bed with eyes hooded in lust and adoration as he watched her pace holes in the floor stressing out._

_He looked like the boy who led her to that airlock bay that fateful day, who helped her into her suit and opened the doors so she could do the spacewalk they thought she would never get to do. Whose voice had laughed in her ear and cheered her on from the hangar inside as she reached her suited fingers out towards the stars as if she could touch them._

_It was Finn and she couldn’t fucking take it._

_He stepped forward. Raven stepped back._

_It did not go unnoticed by the boy she once loved and he frowned at her, calling out in a low voice, “Raven?”_

_She shook her head at him, slapping a hand over her mouth as she turned away._

_She couldn’t do this, she couldn’t do this._

_So, she ran._

_She shoved her way past the kid who was currently walking through the doorway to the stairwell and hurried down the steps, letting out a choked sob as Finn screamed after her._

_“ **Raven?! RAVEN!** ”_

_Raven heard a struggle from above and collapsed against the wall, out of sight from the top of the stairwell._

_“ **LET ME GO! I NEED TO KNOW IF SHE’S ALL RIGHT! RAVEN! – RAVEN! –** “_

_Sliding her back down the wall, she pulled her knees to her chest and cried into her hand, screaming out years’ worth of rage, of despair, of sorrow, of loneliness, of suffering. She kicked out with her feet as muffled screams leaked through her palms. She heard distant footsteps come up from the bottom of the stairwell and pressed her forehead into her knees._

_“Raven? Raven?!” a masculine voice called out to her, and she felt a hand grip her shoulder, trying to turn her around._

_She shoved back at the person, whipping her head up and screaming into their face, “ **DON’T TOUCH ME!** ”_

_Marcus Kane stared back at her in shock from where he was crouched beside her. Raven froze, her mouth opened in a silent gasp._

_The man recovered first. With a deep sigh, Kane maneuvered himself so that he sat against the wall beside Raven, his hands clasped on his bent knees in front of him. Raven, seeing that he wasn’t going to demand she be arrested for assault or that he wasn’t going to go away any time soon, put her head in her hands and sobbed._

_“Raven,” Kane began quietly, sounding strikingly similar to the man she had come to know on the ground, “Why didn’t you take the offer to see Collins?”_

_Raven stiffened, jerking her head up to stare at him in horror. Her eyes stung with unshed tears and she knew they were probably puffy and bloodshot. Through the water in her eyes, she could see his face frowning down at her from beside her and she couldn’t help but snap._

_“Why? **WHY?!** ” Raven exclaimed outraged. She rubbed fiercely at the moisture on her cheeks and hissed at him, “I’ll tell you why, Councilmember. I didn’t take that offer because, for the first time in a year, a brother got to see his younger sister. The only reason that happened was because I did your fucking jobs for you. You hear me? I did yours and Jaha’s jobs **for you**!”_

_Brushing off her knees, she lunged up from the floor, whipping around to glare down at the older man. She pointed an accusing finger at him and spat, “The only reason people like Nygel and Grus do illegal things is because of the system that you and Jaha and even fucking Abby benefit from. The same system that oppresses people like the Blakes, like my mom, like **ME**!”_

_She thumped her chest with her fist and screamed at him, “People like me, like my mom, like Aurora Blake have to turn to Nygel because they’re poor and desperate. **BECAUSE OF YOU**! Because of **ALL OF YOU** in fucking ALPHA who live like fucking **KINGS** while kids – **KIDS** – like those who just walked up those fucking stairs right now, get penalized for trying to scrape by. YOU’RE NOT GOING TO HELP THEM! So, **OF COURSE** , they’re going to turn to crime!”_

_Raven ran a clawed hand through her hair and laughed. It wasn’t a funny one._

_“I’m telling you right now if Abby’s kid, or Jaha’s fucking son, had gone down in that dropship with the rest of those kids, they would have been ostracized. FUCKING **OSTRACIZED** because of the privilege that they benefit from, that their parents benefit from and do **NOTHING** ABOUT!”_

_She turned away from him in disgust, rubbing at the tears and snot that dribbled down her face. She sniffed, letting out a scoff as she told him, “I helped the damn Ark more IN A FUCKING **WEEK** than you, or Jaha, or Abby, or anyone else has done in THE **DECADES** YOU HAVE BEEN ON THE FUCKING COUNCIL!”_

_Raven glared up at the stairs above and clenched her eyes shut as she whispered, “I deserve more than one fucking favor from Jaha and a pat on the head.”_

_Silence descended over the stairwell and Raven waited, gasping out lungfuls of air for Kane to call the guards, for him to sentence her to death for verbally and physically abusing the fuck out of a Councilmember._

_Did she care at that moment? **Fuck no**._

_In fact, just like with Nygel, it felt like a huge weight had been lifted off her soul._

_Last time around, shit like this had been swept under the rug in the face of bigger problems like the survival of the human race. Circumstances like that cause social classes on the Ark to disappear, especially with figures like herself, Clarke and Bellamy dismantling and all authority the adults had on earth._

_On the ground, Clarke and Bellamy were leaders, looked to for guidance and help even by the likes of Kane and Abby. And who did Clarke and Bellamy look up to? Raven._

_Ark classes stopped meaning anything the moment she set foot on the ground but waking up here, after everything she had been through, it forced her to face the trauma her and so many others had suffered for years._

_And it forced her to face the facts._

_The Hundred, or the delinquents as they were called by the likes of the privileged on the Ark, were only delinquents because of the society they were brought up in. The society in which those from Alpha lived in the closest thing to privilege the Ark could offer and those from every other fucking station turned to crime to see the next day, throwing freedom and life away for the chance to not just survive but to live._

_The Hundred were only the Hundred because everybody saw a problem and didn’t bother to fix it._

_Well, she was going to fix it. No way were her friends, her family, going to go through this shit on the ground. She knew that without that extra month of experience, the Ark would restructure itself as soon as it landed. Executions may not be necessary but people in power rarely needed necessity to enforce their will on others._

_Kane would be the first person to recognize that she wouldn’t stand by and let it happen._

_So, he could float her for all she cared, but history would repeat itself. People like Clarke and Bellamy would pull through in the end._

_So, Raven stood in silence, waiting for Kane to cast his judgment upon her._

_But when he spoke up, he said something that she never thought she would hear. Not from this man, not the one who never saw the ground._

_“You’re right,” he sighed, and she could hear the way his shoulders grazed the wall as they slumped, “You’re right, Raven, and I’m sorry.” ___

____

_Raven blinked at the concrete wall in front of her. He’s sorry?!_

____

_Slowing turning around to face him, she prepared herself for what she was going to see. And what she saw was a tired, emotionally exhausted man with sad eyes and a hopeless grimace to his mouth. She saw the same hopelessness that she had seen in Abby when she had finished doing Reese Lemkin’s check-up and it shocked Raven so much, that all her anger, all her nasty words, and accusations died on her lips._

____

_“I used to be just like you, you know?” Kane began, staring forward. Not at her, but rather through her, like it wasn’t her he was really seeing but someone else, “I grew up in Factory station. Did you know that?”_

____

_Raven found herself shaking her head dumbly. Kane gave her a tight-lipped smile and looked down at his clasped hands, “No, I didn’t expect you would. Most people have forgotten. I know I did.”_

____

_He chuckled at that. It was a very similar one to the laugh Raven had let out a few minutes prior._

____

_It wasn’t a funny one, that is._

____

_“My father…he wasn’t a nice man. Not to me, not to my mother,” Kane told her and Raven found herself sinking down onto the ground beside him, staring at her knees as he spoke, “He paid for it, eventually, with his life. Floated for assault.”_

____

_He sighed, “However, his death ultimately cost me and my mother greatly. To get us by, as you said, we turned to others. My mother, Vera, joined the service for the Tree of Life. I used to sit in on her sermons when I was little. That’s when I met Nygel.”_

____

_Raven turned to look at him, her brows raised high on her forehead. Kane nodded but didn’t look at her._

____

_“Nygel recruited me at ten years old to run errands and messages to people on the Ark for her. People in power who were in her pocket,” Kane explained, causing Raven to frown, “A lot of those people…well, they weren’t nice people. Some were like my father but some – some were much worse. A boy of ten, I saw the dark side of Nygel’s business, the dark side of the Ark. Just as you did.”_

____

_“After I finished my studies, however, I left my mother’s church and stopped meeting Nygel. I wanted to put a stop to everything I had seen while working for Nygel, wanted to put a stop to everything she, and everyone who worked with or for her, did. I wanted to be the person that was willing to look into the places that others weren’t willing to look.”_

____

_Kane sighed again and ran a hand through his slicked-back hair. Now that Raven was looking closely, she could see the grey strands that would one day become more prominent. He was only in his forties right now, but the death of one’s soul aged you more than years would, as she learned during her time before the Anomaly._

____

_“Somewhere along the way, it stopped being about justice and it started being about revenge, a continuous climb for power and some – some kind of control over my life,” he murmured quietly, finally turning his head to look at her with solemn, brown eyes as he told her, “Don’t become like me, Raven. Don’t let that anger turn you into someone you’re not.”_

____

_Raven stared at him silently, before turning away with a sniff, “Don’t worry, Kane. Ain’t gonna be no one else but me. I can’t pull off cold-blooded snake quite as well as you can.”_

____

_She waited for him to get offended, to pull away with a frown. Instead, the older man chuckled quietly at her like he agreed before shaking his head, “I suppose not.”_

____

_Kane exhaled a long, shuddering breath before getting to his feet, rubbing at his presumably aching knees before straightening up. He turned to her with furrowed brows and asked curiously, “Now, you mentioned something about deserving more than one favor?”_

____

_Raven scoffed, waving him off, “Forget about it – “_

____

_“What did you have in mind?”_

____

_Raven’s head pulled back as she frowned up at him. Kane stood before her with hands by his side, not clasped behind his back like he usually had him. Gone was the cold, chilling look of someone calculating everyone’s moves before they made them. Instead, she saw the man from the ground, the wise, peaceful, old man who wanted nothing more than to see the fighting come to an end._

____

_Maybe, this was Kane’s new road to becoming that man. A better man._

____

_Do better, Monty and Harper once told her from on the other side of a pre-recorded holographic video, Do better than we did before._

____

_Raven realized that it wasn’t about just making things better, fixing the mistakes they made. It was becoming better people, people who didn’t have to fix any mistakes because they tried to stop making them in the first place._

____

_Maybe, this wasn’t just Kane’s road, but Raven’s as well._

____

_“Bellamy Blake,” Raven eventually responded, jutting her chin up at the older man in determination, “When the Ark comes down, I want him to be on the same dropship as his younger sister. I don’t care if he can’t see her in a social setting until after her trial. He deserves to be with her during such a time as the falling of the Ark.”_

____

_Kane’s brows rose at her request, but he didn’t rebuke it. Instead, the older man extended his hand down to help her up, telling her, “I’ll see what I can do.”_

____

_Raven’s eyes narrowed on his hand before flicking up to meet his gaze._

____

_It was a sincere gesture, she could tell._

____

_And it was the voice of her friends, her dead friends who had just walked up those stairs above her and Kane that told her to ‘do better’ over and over again as she reached out and took Kane’s hand, letting him help her to her feet._

____

-

____

_Eleven days after Raven woke up on the Ark, the escape pod was prepped for deployment and Raven stood beside it, in her spacesuit with her pack in hand. She loaded it into the pod, stashing it between her seat and the control panel. Beside her, taped to her chair, was the radio with spare batteries tucked into the pocket of her jacket under her suit._

____

_Once she made sure the pack and radio were stashed safely, she ducked her head out and turned to face the five adults standing by in the maintenance bay. Sinclair moved forward first. He had double-checked the pod nine times that morning alone and Raven rolled her eyes as he leaned over to subtly check the back thrusters._

____

_“Come on, Sinclair!” she groaned, picking up her helmet and tucking it under her arms, “Don’t you trust me?”_

____

_“Of course, I do,” the man straightened up as if he hadn’t been caught for the tenth time, “A good engineer takes proper precautions.”_

____

_“Yeah, yeah,” Raven waved him off with a grin. Sinclair gave her a fatherly smile and clasped her shoulder gently._

____

_“I have faith in you, Raven Reyes. You won’t let me down.”_

____

_“Damn straight,” she beamed up at him, and in a very uncharacteristic move for her, she wrapped her arms around the man she considered to be like a father to her and whispered, “I won’t let you down.”_

____

Sinclair chuckled fondly and gave her a tight squeeze before pulling back to stand with the others. Abby and Jackson moved forward, with Jackson taking her temperature and checking to see if the wristband she had clamped around her right wrist was picking up her vital signs. Once he confirmed that the wrist band was connected, he gave Raven a small, encouraging smile before stepping back.

____

_Abby smiled at her and grasped her hand, giving it a squeeze._

____

_Raven squeezed her hand back and joked, “Relax, Abby. I’ve done this plenty of times.”_

____

_“You’ve dropped down onto a planet that could be uninhabitable in a 130-year-old escape pod ‘plenty of times’?”_

____

_Raven shrugged, giving the woman a lazy smile, “I feel like I have.”_

____

_And unbeknownst to them, this would be her second time doing it._

____

_Abby let out a deep breath and said, “Right. Well, you have your Med-Kit in your pack. There should be a bottle of water to tide you over until we get down. There’s a map of the terrain – “_

____

_“Abby,” Raven pulled at the woman’s hand to grab her attention and told her gently, “I’ll be fine.”_

____

_The woman nodded, “I know.”_

____

_Tears stung at the corners of her eyes and she couldn’t help it. She pulled Abby into her arms and hugged her tightly, “Thank you. For believing me.”_

____

_Abby hesitated a moment like Sinclair did before giving in, wrapping her arms around her and whispering in her ear, “Thank you, Raven.”_

____

_They let go of one another as Kane strode forward and Raven raised a brow as he handed her a sheathed knife, “What’s this?”_

____

_“I don’t think we’re on a hugging basis quite yet,” the older man smiled down at her, gesturing with his chin towards the knife, “For protection. We don’t know the threats that lie down there. We can’t give you a gun, so this is the next best thing.”_

____

_Raven gave him a thankful smile and turned to place it in her pack. She took the time to take out the papers that she had been working on for the last few days and passed it to Jaha, who took them with a surprised look on his face._

____

_“They’re plans,” she told the man, taking in the confused furrow of his dark eyebrows, “To get the entire Ark to the ground. Not just in dropships but bringing the stations down.”_

____

_Jaha’s eyes widened as he looked up from the papers at her and asked, “How?”_

____

_“Thrusters,” she told him, remembering how Abby explained Jaha’s plan to save the survivors of Diana Syndey’s terrorist attack, “Use the thrusters on each of the stations to propel them down to the earth’s surface. It’s a risk, but it’s better than leaving people behind to die knowing you could have saved them.”_

____

_She glanced over at Kane, who nodded in understanding. The first people on those dropships would be Ark officials, and people who were vital for the Ark’s restructure on the ground. Raven’s plan would ensure that her people, her and Kane’s people, would have a chance to see it too._

____

_Jaha nodded, “I’ll look them over once I get your confirmation.”_

____

_Raven grinned up at him cheekily, “Then I guess there’s no time to waste.”_

____

_Jamming her helmet onto her head, she went over to Sinclair who helped her into the pod and strapped her in, stepping back and closing the hatch door with a hiss. Raven took a deep breath, her eyes darting to the hook where the metal raven swung from her chain._

____

_She had considered leaving it behind, but she decided that there were somethings she couldn’t let go of. Some things that would always be a part of her. And that was okay. As long as she knew that she wasn’t a Little Bird anymore._

____

_She was a Spacewalker._

____

_Outside, she heard Jaha begin the Traveller’s Ode and Sinclair beginning his countdown._

____

_“10, 9, 8 – “_

____

_“In peace, may you leave the shore. In love, may you find the next.”_

____

_“7, 6, 5 – “_

____

_“Safe passage on your travels, until our final journey to the ground.”_

____

_“4 – 3 – 2 – “_

____

_“One,” Raven grinned, slamming her hand onto the button that opened up the bay doors below the pod. She felt the pod fall through, and into the dark, starry abyss below, and whispered to herself between chattering teeth._

____

_“May we meet again.”_

____

-

____

_Her head fucking hurt. Something sticky was sliding down the front of her forehead and when she woke up, she saw red. A low groan fell from her lips and reached up with shaky fingers to pull off her helmet._

____

_Suddenly, a breeze whooshed in and Raven instinctively took a deep breath, sighing in her chair at the smell of fresh air. Squinting through her eyelids, she made out in her peripheral the bright light pouring in from the opened hatch of the pod._

____

_Greens, browns, and yellows blurred together, going in and out of focus as Raven tried to remember what happened._

____

_The last thing she remembered was Jaha saying the Traveller’s Ode and Sinclair’s voice in the background, counting out loud._

____

_No, not counting out loud. Counting **down**._

____

_She was supposed to go to Earth today._

____

_Raven’s eyes snapped open at the realization._

____

_She **was** on Earth._

____

_Pain rocked through her head at the quick motion and her padded fingers reached up to touch her forehead gingerly. When she pulled them back, she made out the thick, red liquid coating them and she let out a hiss._

____

_“Shit.”_

____

_She needed the radio. She needed to get out of here. She needed to get out of this fucking suit._

____

_First things first, she moved her limbs to check that she didn’t cop any damage from the landing impact. Her arms and shoulders were fine and she could twist her torso enough to lean out, staring at the vibrant green trees towering over her with a small, smile of wonder._

____

_She hadn’t seen trees like that since they bombed Eden. The ones on Sanctum were doused in the orange haze of the two suns that the moon orbited and there was something kind of sick about the forests on the distant planet. Not sick, sick. The kind of sick where you had hallucinations about viciously murdering your friends and family._

____

_That kind of sick._

____

_The trees on Earth were…they were beautiful. The epitome of peace, of nature, of serenity._

____

_Raven scoffed out loud to herself, God, I sound like fucking Monty._

____

_I need to get out of here._

____

_However, when she got around to moving her legs, her eyes flew open once more as she inhaled sharply. She didn’t want to look down to assess the damage but she knew that she needed to. Leaning over, she felt bile crawl up her throat and tasted it in the back of her mouth._

____

_During the impact, her chair must have rolled forward and pinned one of her legs between the steel beam below the leather covering and the control panel. The place where the beam was jammed into her thigh was bleeding heavily, staining the white spacesuit red from the knee downward. She could see the bare skin peeking between her trouser leg and ankle and cringed at the audible swelling she saw blooming there._

____

_Angry tears swept down her cheeks and she screamed, “ **FUCK!** ”_

____

_Raven squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her teeth. Now was not the time to be freaking out. She needed to deal with this calmly and quickly and get on to reporting in with the Ark. If she didn’t, then all of this would be for nothing._

____

_She refused for this to be for nothing._

____

_“Get your head together, Reyes!” she hissed to herself, taking deep, calming breaths. She continued for a few minutes before turning to look down at her mess of a leg. Raven braced her uninjured leg against the paneling below the control boards and pushed with all her might, digging her shoulder into the chair to get some extra leverage._

____

_She kept at it and gasped in relief as she managed to take some of the weight from the metal beam off of her injured thigh so that it wasn’t jammed between the chair and the control boards. She let out a hiss of air and fumbled around for her pack, unzipping it and fishing out the knife Kane had given her._

____

_Making quick work of cutting up the space suit all the way up to her neck, Raven tossed the knife onto the ground outside and focused on tearing off the rest of the suit. When she was free from the suit, she braced one hand on the control board and one hand under her injured thigh._

____

_She counted to three under her breath and in one swift move, whipped her legs out from under the control paneling. Without her uninjured leg keeping the chair from rolling, it lurched forward and her side knocked into the paneling, knocking the air out of her._

____

_Raven bit her lip from crying out and felt pain shoot up and down her leg from her jerky movements. But at least she wasn’t trapped anymore. That meant she could move on._

____

_Her leg was free. She was out of her spacesuit. It was time to check in with Ark station through the radio._

____

_Her hands flailed around for the device, and worry temporarily nagged her that it might have been lost on re-entry. Eventually, her fingers snagged on the spiral cord and she let out a sigh of relief, chuckling slightly to herself as she pulled out the radio from where it had been dropped onto the floor of the pod._

____

_Raven wrenched herself forward, intending to pull herself out of the pod but her legs went out from under her and she fell face-first onto the forest floor below. A strangled cough escaped her throat and she shuddered as coughing fits wracked her body._

____

_“Shit,” she rasped out to herself, patting the ground for the radio. Turning onto her side, she pulled it up so that it sat on her chest and stared up at the sky above, laughing in exhaustion and exhilaration at how blue it was._

____

_She hadn’t seen such a blue sky since they left Earth._

____

_She missed it._

____

_Pressing the button, Raven coughed out grinning, “Calling Ark Station, this is Raven Reyes. Can you hear me? Over.”_

____

_She released the button and listened to the static._

____

_Please. Please. Please. Please._

____

_“This is Ark Station. We can hear you loud and clear, Raven. Over,” Sinclair’s playful tone replied over the radio. Raven clasped a hand over her chest, feeling her heart thud against it hard._

____

_“Way to keep a girl on her toes. Over,” she laughed over the speaker._

____

_This time it was Abby who answered, “Raven. It’s Abby. We’re reading your vital signs but they are spiking. Are you alright? Over.”_

____

_Raven brought the radio closer to her mouth to respond, “I’m fine, Doc. Just had a bit of a bumpy ride upon re-entry. Got my leg a bit messed up but nothing I can’t handle. Over.”_

____

_She waited for a moment, watching the clouds go by, and tried to figure out what kind of shapes they came in. Was that one a bird or was it a dog?_

____

_The radio buzzed to life again and Jaha’s voice ordered her, “Raven. Report. Over.”_

____

_“Yes, sir? Over.”_

____

_“Is the ground survivable? Over?”_

____

_Raven grinned, holding out her hand into the air in front of her. Somewhere up there, her people waited to return to Earth. She was the one who was going to make that happen._

____

_All it took was a few words._

____

_Pressing the button, Raven reported, “Confirmed. The ground is survivable. Over.”_

____

_Kane’s voice answered a moment later, “Confirmed. We’ll see you soon, Raven. Hang tight. Over.”_

____

_“Will do, sir. Raven Out.”_

____

_With that, the hand with the radio dropped to her side and she sagged against the cool, slightly damp earth. Raven listened to the birds sing in the trees hanging above her head and sighed, a content smile appearing on her lips._

____

_However, it disappeared as a dark shadow loomed over her and her eyes widened as they focused on the skull mask and the intelligent, wary eyes peering through it._

____

_Realizing who was standing over her, Raven felt panic flood her system and she scrambled around, looking for the knife she had thrown on the ground. She saw it glinting a few inches away from the Trikru warrior’s feet and reached out for it at the same time he leaned down, his hand stretched towards her._

____

_Her fingers wrapped around the handle and a lifetime of fighting instincts kicked in as Raven brought the knife up and stabbed it into the side of the Trikru warrior. The man let out a strangled yelp and staggered back, his hand going to the knife that was still buried into his side._

____

_He stared at her in shock and fell to his knees and Raven, realizing what she had done, reached out to him. For what she didn’t know, but words fell out of her mouth as she tried, in vain, to take back what she did._

____

_“ **Shit** \- I’m - I'm sorry!” she stammered, tears sliding down her cheek, “Fuck – I – Moba – “_ (I’m sorry -)

____

_Before she could even explain, the back of the Trikru warrior’s hand hit her face hard and the world went dark._

____

-

____

#### PRESENT DAY

____

Raven watched as Octavia’s eyes darkened in understanding and turned away, wringing her hands out angrily as she spat out in her defense, “I was concussed. I didn’t realize what was happening before it was too late.”

____

“You **stabbed** one of their warriors,” Octavia repeated, staring at her blankly, “Is he still alive?”

____

Raven wiped at a stray tear and nodded, letting out a shaky breath, “Yeah, Nyko was able to stop the bleeding with some poultice.”

____

“Good. You didn’t kill him,” Octavia nodded, staring forward at the gates.

____

Raven jutted out her chin, swallowing thickly as she told the truth.

____

“I was just scared. I was so caught up in being on the ground again that I forgot about how dangerous it was.”

____

“The ground isn’t dangerous,” the other girl argued, her eyes narrowed on the grounder girl huddled in the corner, “ **People are**.”

____

Raven frowned at her dark tone and turned her head slowly to study the grounder girl, who had been quiet the entire time she had told her story. She had stayed crouched on the ground, facing the wall but she no longer shivered, no longer rocked herself, or shied away seemingly in fear.

____

No, the strange girl sat with a stiff back with her ears pricked from where they peeked out from her dark brown hair. The scarf she had wrapped around her lower face had slipped down a bit so that Raven could see the silhouette of a pointed chin. Something about that small glimpse of a side profile looked familiar like she could place it if the girl could just turn her head some more.

____

Octavia was the one who spoke up first, barking loudly, “ _Dofo! Ai get yu gon get chit zor sein. Chek ai au!_ ” (Hey! I know you know what we’re saying. Look at me!)

____

A commotion broke out beyond the gates of their make-shift cell and suddenly, figures appeared, opening the gates and storming in. The leader, who Raven recognized was Gustus, stared them down. Raven and Octavia frowned at him, at how he wore the red cape and the armor that was usually donned by another, the one he served.

____

If Gustus was here, then that means…

____

Just as it dawned on the two girls, the figure in the corner of the cave unfolded her body and stood up, reaching up to pull the scarf down and settling it below her chin as she turned to face the great, big man who had entered the cell.

____

The girl in the corner raised a hand to stop the man from moving forward, raising her voice in an authoritative order, “ _Hod op!_ ” (Stop!)

____

Gustus froze, his hands wrapped around the sword at his side. With one last glare at the two girls, he inclined his head in respect to the grounder girl who had been thrown into the prisoner with them and backed away, unclipping the shoulder armor and cape and attaching it to the girl’s shoulder with a reverence that sank into Octavia’s and Raven’s bones alongside the realization of who she was.

____

Lastly, he slipped off the golden emblem on his forehead and placed it on the girl’s head gently before bowing and stepping back.

____

With a sigh, the girl turned aside and locked eyes with her cellmates. Beautiful, deadly, green eyes.

____

“I’ve heard everything I need to know,” Lexa Kom Trikru, Commander of the Kongeda declared in a loud, clear voice as she stared down the two Skaikru girls who had invaded her territory.

____

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few questions:  
> \- What part did you like best?  
> \- What did you think of Raven's POV?  
> \- What are you most looking forward to seeing Raven face in the future of this storyline?  
> \- Did you guys like Bellamy and Raven's interaction in the Skybox?  
> \- What did you think about Kane's backstory?  
> \- Which Raven/character interaction was your favorite in this chapter?  
> \- What did you guys think of her confrontation with Finn? Hate it? Love it?  
> \- Which one of the delinquents did you like Raven seeing the most? Can anyone guess mine?  
> \- Who enjoyed Lexa's appearance at the end of the chapter?  
> \- Predictions for next chapter?  
> \- What would you like to see most next chapter?  
> \- What do you think I could improve and what do you want to see more of?


End file.
